


Never Say Never

by GenderlessProtagonist



Category: Dayshift At Freddy's, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consistant update schedule?, Established Relationship, He doesn't talk about it all that much, I planned this before DSaF 3 came out so some details might contradict stuff in 3, I used all the same elements but a few things are explained differently, M/M, Mostly focuses on the first two games, Trans Male Character, WARNING (and semi-spoiler) the purple guy that I use in this is named Vincent, Yeah they're totally dating sorry, but there's a certain interpretation of him who's valid that I really love, but there's a few jokes if you know where to look, i have anxiety so I gave the characters anxiety, never heard of her, ok this is getting semi-ranty shutting up now, the 'script' is from the first game though, there's some swearing but it's all jokes, this thing doesn't even pass the bechdel test, yes I KNOW about the negative associations with his name, you can pry my Six Protagonists from my COLD DEAD HANDS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2020-07-12 05:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenderlessProtagonist/pseuds/GenderlessProtagonist
Summary: A Phone Guy who doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be, and a Purple Guy who can’t follow his script to save his life?This is shaping up to be averyinteresting location.____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Set in a DSaF AU that I have where, among other minor changes, Purple Guys are factory-produced, same as Phone Guys.





	1. Bad ∞ End ∞ Night

**Author's Note:**

> “You’re the leading lady in this Crazy nighT!  
> Will you follow the script, or want a full rewrite?  
> So then, what kind of EndinG do you have in mind?  
> Don’t you know that it’s yours to decide? So-  
> Look again, look again, for your Happy enD!  
> If you don’t get it right, the game is over then!  
> Is the True enD bound for the burial ground?  
> Well, is it a Bad ∞ End ∞ Night?”  
> \- Bad ∞ End ∞ Night by Hitoshizuku x yama, English lyrics by Razzy & Co
> 
> Kind of a short chapter to introduce the characters, the next one will be longer, I promise ^-^

“Hello?

Hello, hello?

Hello! Welcome to the new and improved Fredbea-”

No.

That’s not right.

Take it from the beginning.

“Hello?

Hello, hello?

Um, I wanted to re-”

**_NO._ **

Scott sighed. He’d been practicing this speech since he got here, and he was no closer to getting it right than when he’d started. Granted, he wasn’t _quite_ sure where ‘here’ was, how he got there, or how long it’d been since he’d arrived, but the sentiment still stood.

He _needed_ to get this right. He inhaled anxiously, and tried again.

“Hello? Hello, hello?”

“Hello!”

Scott whirled around toward the source of the unfamiliar voice. The newcomer hesitated, then waved. “Hey. Um, not sure if you’re aware, but no one’s going to be here for a while. You have a few more hours to rehearse. Or to panic in preparation, I guess. Whatever works.”

“Who…?”

“Oh, right, forgot to introduce myself!” The new arrival extended their hand. “…Dave?”

Scott wondered why the announcement had been phrased as a question.

Noticing his confusion, Dave continued. “Purple Guy?”

Oh.

The _murderer._

**_Wonderful._ **

Scott took Dave’s hand, and shook it anxiously. “S-Scott. Phone Guy.”

Dave laughed. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“…Makes sense?”

“You know, ‘cause of…” Dave gestured towards his head.

Scott raised a hand to his own face, startled by the cold metal that met his touch. “W-what?”

“You don’t know?” Dave watched his incredulous reaction. “ _Oh my god you don’t know_.”

“K-know what?” Scott was starting to panic, not that he hadn’t been unsettled already. “W-what do I not know?!”

“Dude.” Dave laid a hand on his shoulder, making him freeze. “Don’t freak out, but your head’s a phone.”

“… **What**?!”

“Yeah, you know how most people have heads? Well, you don’t. You have a phone. …If it helps, I’m purple.”

Scott was hyperventilating now. “ **H-how would that be _remotely_ helpful**?!”

“Moral support?” Dave grinned. “Ok, not helpful, I get it, but dude, you _seriously_ need to calm down. There’s still stuff that we have to do before opening, and I’m never going to be able to get it done by myself if you pass out.”  
  
This made Scott pause. “What stuff?”

“You didn’t get a list?” Dave produced a scrap of paper covered with elegant handwriting. “It’s just basic stuff, honestly. Put a couple of posters up, hang up garlands, assemble the animatronics…”

Scott laughed, exasperated. “You call that ‘basic’?”

“It’s _way_ easier than it sounds. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

…

Several minutes into being shown how to perform the task, Scott had a question. “Dave?”

No response.

He continued anyway. “I can’t figure out if the robot that we’re putting together is a chicken or a duck. Do you know anything about birds?”

Dave looked up. “I mean, I punched a goose once, if that counts.”

If Scott had eyes, they’d’ve widened in surprise. “You _what_?”

“I punched a goose. I hit it, in the tiny demon-mouth, with my fist. Punch. **_Goose_**.”

“And why did you…?”

Dave laughed. “I genuinely can’t remember. But I _do_ remember that I completely fuckin’ _nailed_ that thing. Honestly, it was fun. I’d do it again.”

A short awkward silence ensued, as Scott attempted to process the information that he had just received.

Dave turned to him. “Have _you_ ever punched a bird?”

Scott shook his head, still stunned into silence.

“Well then, you involuntarily came to the right pizzeria!” Dave held up the disembodied Chica head that he’d been fiddling with.

“…”

Dave stared him dead in the eyes- rather, the place where his eyes should be. “Free will is an illusion, Scott. **Punch the bird**.”

Scott hesitated for a moment, then gently bopped the lifeless beak with his fist. Dave cheered, way louder than was reasonably necessary, and was cut off by a sudden jarring alarm that echoed throughout the room. “ _Shit_!”

Scott quickly raised his hands in self-defense. “I-I didn’t hit it that hard!”

Dave looked up at him, his eyes wide with panic. “Not you! The newbie’s here!”

“I-I thought we still had a few more hours!”

“We do! _Why the hell are they so fucking early_?” Dave looked around frantically at the partially-assembled robots. “We’re not even half ready! This is bad, this is bad…”

His erratic gaze finally settled on Scott. “You have to meet them first- Your speech is pretty long, right?”

Scott nodded quickly.

“Great! Then stall. I’ll get the rest of the building ready, you hold them as long as you can. If all goes well, I’ll be in position in the Safe Room when the time comes.” Scott didn’t move. “ _Hurry_!”

Scott turned and sprinted towards the building’s entrance. Dave called after him. “Good luck!”

…

“Hello? Hello, Hello? Hello! Welcome to the _NEW_ and _IMPROVED_ Freddy’s!”

Do they look…bored?

“Well…Actually, it’s not new. _Or_ improved…”

Oh god, why aren’t they reacting?

“Leave me alone, there’s like _50_ locations! _ALL_ of them can’t be-”

**_####._ **

Wait, are they- smiling?

This is not good. This is **not good**.

“I-I mean…uhhh…Welcome to your new summer-job at Freddy Fazbender’s Pizza!”

Is it summer?

Doesn’t matter. It’s in the script. **Stick to the script, Scott**.

After a pause, the newcomer responded. “Believe me, _there’s nowhere else in the world that I’d rather be right now_.”

Scott couldn’t tell if they were being sarcastic or not.

“Um…good! Glad to hear it!”

Can’t ask about the tour, for Dave’s sake. What’s next?

“B-before I hire you, I gotta ask you a few questions.”

Not that they’ll affect anything…

“Uhhh, what’s your name?”

The almost-employee hesitated before speaking. “…Jack. Jack Kennedy.”

“Uhhh, any past in crime related activity?”

“ _Jesus, I almost forgot how much you say ‘Uhhh’_.” Jack muttered under his breath before responding. “Honestly, you don’t wanna know.”

“…O-ok. You gotta sign th-”

Jack interrupted him. “I already signed.”

“A-alright. I can check…” Scott quickly leafed through the file containing the contracts. Sure enough, there was one labeled “Jack Kennedy”. The date was unreadable, either through age or deliberate erasure.

_How on earth is he still alive_?

“Uh…now that the business stuff is over-”

Jack cut him off again. “Yeah, yeah, bear suit, Safe Room, I know the drill.”

“Um-” Scott was unable to formulate a response.

Jack looked up at him, as if suddenly realizing something. “Are you married, Scott?”

“No? I’m no-”

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, **wrong**.

“I-I mean yes! I-”

Jack caught his gaze again, looking almost…apologetic? “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine, really.” Beginning to leave the room, he looked over his shoulder and waved. “See you on the flipside!”

Once Jack was gone, Scott stayed frozen in stunned silence. He’d been told to stall, and had instead delivered his speech in what appeared to be record time. The exchange that he’d just taken part in was almost completely incomprehensible. Once he regained his ability to think, only one clear thought came to his mind.

_I hope Dave’s ok._

…

“ _Shit! Shit goddamn fucking bitch-ass_ …”

Dave was not ok.

He had picked up the aggressive stream of curses as soon as Scott had left the room, and had only paused once to attempt his speech once. Needless to say, it didn’t end well.

“ _Who the fucking hell says ‘old sport’ so goddamn much_?!”

The door to the Safe Room slowly opened, and the newcomer stepped through, closing their eyes and then slowly opening them to adjust their sight to the room’s darkness. Dave took a deep breath; this was his cue. He launched into his lines immediately, complete with the appropriate accent.

“Hello there, old sport. _You_ must be the newbie.”

The so-called ‘old sport’ stifled a laugh for a few seconds, then noticed Dave’s startled expression. “Sorry. Continue.”

“How do you like it here at Freddy’s?”

“S’aight.”

“ _What does that even_ \- I mean, uh…Ah, shit.”

For a few moments, no words were spoken. Eventually, ‘old sport’ broke the silence. “You aren’t very good at this, are you?”

Dave dropped his fake accent to respond. “It’s that obvious?”

“Did you even _hear_ yourself?”

“True enough.” Dave sighed. “Unfortunately, I didn’t major in fuckin’ _Theatre Arts_ like Scotty did.”

‘old sport’ raised an eyebrow at him- or, rather, one of their eyes widened significantly. “’Scotty’?”

“Yeah! Scott- fuckin’…” Dave snapped his fingers aggressively several times. “Uhh…Phone Guy?”

‘old sport’ smiled, which, in itself, was a terrifying sight. “Oh! _Oh_. I see.” He made a quick move for the door, tossing a “Catch you on the flipside!” over his shoulder as he almost ran out of the room. It sounded like he was…giggling?

Several moments of stunned silence after ‘old sport’’s departure, Dave remembered something. _He had forgotten to give ‘old sport’ the Offer_.

“…Shit.”

…

After racing out of the room, Jack stopped to quiet his involuntary laughter. This was too good.

_A Phone Guy who doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be, and a Purple Guy who can’t follow his script to save his life_?

_Wait…He never gave me the offer! How on earth are things going to proceed without it?_

_This is shaping up to be a **very** interesting location._


	2. Miss Jackson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh.  
> Um, hi! I know it's been two months, and I'm sorry. This year has been kicking my ass, and I've hardly had any time to write. Past me was completely unrealistic with their post expectations; present me knows (slightly) better. You can probably expect a new chapter once a month from now on, and I'll be active pretty often to respond to comments and stuff. If you've got something to say, even if it's just 'hi', I'd love to hear from you! ^u^
> 
> Okay, without any further ado (God knows it's already been long enough), onto the second chapter!  
> This is where shit gets REAL.  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> “Climbing out the back door, didn’t leave a mark  
> No one knows it’s you, Miss Jackson!  
> Found another victim,  
> but no one’s gonna find Miss Jackson,  
> Jackson,  
> Jackson!”  
> \- Miss Jackson by Panic! At The Disco

_Back here again_.

Scott unlocked the door to the restaurant at which he worked. He didn’t actually recall having left the building last night, but that wasn’t very high on his list of worries right now. His top priority was getting the place in order before it opened, which was only in an hour.

Stepping in, Scott’s first observation was just how… _empty_ it felt. It seemed like, somehow, all of the life had been drained out of the place since he’d been there last. He began to look around, praying that nothing was out of place. Nothing, nothing…

Oh.

Oh **God**.

Sprawled out on the floor in front of him, their skin so pale it was nearly colorless, was a small, motionless body.

They were wearing a party hat.

Scott began shaking involuntarily. “ _Oh G-god, I can’t believe he a-actually did it_.” he quietly commented to himself. “ _I-I thought, maybe_ …”

His quiet whispers were cut off by a loud scream, followed by “HOLY **FUCK**!”. The screamer then started to run in his direction, as indicated by the loud footsteps approaching him. Scott barely had time to step back from the body before they entered his room, stopping when they spotted him.

It was Dave.

Dave glanced up at him, looking…relieved? “Scott! Thank god, it’s you! Scott, there’re _bodies_ and-”

Dave took a step towards him, and Scott hurried back, instinctively raising his arms to protect himself. Dave looked hurt, then appeared to suddenly realize something. He took a deep breath. “Scott, I…I’m cutting the bullshit. I know that I’m supposed to have killed the kids, but I swear to whatever Eldritch deity is in charge of all of this, I _didn’t._ ”

Scott lowered his hands in surprise. This was _not_ how he had been expecting this exchange to go.

After Scott dropped his defensive stance, Dave continued. “Last night, when I talked to ‘old sport’- you know how that’s supposed to go, right?”

Scott shook his head, still mute with shock. He knew that Dave was supposed to end up killing the kids, but he didn’t know anything else about what was supposed to happen.

“Well, what’s _supposed_ to happen is I give him the choice to help me kill the kids or not, and, depending on his choice, we either do it together or I do it alone. Problem is, I didn’t get a chance to ask him. He got me distracted, and then left, which, obviously, isn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t know what to do after that, so I just… _didn’t_. I have _no idea_ how or why these bodies are here, and I’m _freaking out_.”

It took Scott a moment to find his voice again. “J-Jack might know.”

“’Jack’?” Dave asked. “That’s…‘old sport’, right? God, I never actually got to learn his name. Perks of the position, I guess.”

Scott nodded. “H-He seems like he’s done this before. He either saw what happened, knows from experience, or… _he_ killed them.”

“Mmm…not the best options, but I think you’re right. If we want to ask him, we should probably do it in the Safe Room. No cameras.”

Scott almost felt relieved that Dave was using “we”. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t have to do this alone.

“Let’s see…you meet him first again this morning, right? While you’re talking, tell him that you need to meet him in the Safe Room for something. I’ll be in there as backup, just in case you’re right on the third point, and we’re his next victims.” Dave laughed nervously. It looked like Scott wasn’t the only one who was genuinely concerned about that being a possibility.

A loud alarm cut through the tense silence. Dave made the closest thing to ‘eye contact’ he could with Scott. “That’s our cue. Remember, I’m in the Safe Room if you need help. Good luck!”

As the two went their separate ways, Scott couldn’t help but think about how _similar_ this was to what happened yesterday morning, albeit under entirely different circumstances.

_I hope this goes better than it did yesterday_.

…

“Hello? Hello, Hello?

Hey, y-you came back! That’s…u-um, I…”

Jack froze. _That_ was definitely a first. “You ok, man?”

“Y-yeah, um, I…” Scott took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. “E-employee, I n-need you to come back to the Safe Room with me.” It sounded as if he was _trying_ to be authoritative, but came off as panicked and desperate. “P-please?”

Jack suddenly realized that he hadn’t responded yet. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I…I’ll tell you once we get there.”

“Ok.” Scott led the way, with Jack following behind.

_This has never happened before. I wonder what he needs me for._

_Does he just need help with managing?_

_No, he wouldn’t be making such a big deal out of it if that was the case. Maybe he’s just going to push me into the Safe Room and lock it from the outside._

_No, that’s not creative enough. I know, he’s going to stab me to death and_ then _lock me in the Safe Room! Yeah, that sounds better. Come at me, Scotty boi. I’m ready._

Scott opened the Safe Room door, startling Jack out of his thoughts. “A-after you.”

_Alright, let’s get this over with._

…

Dave watched Jack squint as his eyes adjusted, and then open them wide with shock once he noticed Dave. Whatever Scott had made Jack expect was in here, Dave wasn’t it.

Scott closed the door, then rushed over to stand unnaturally close to Dave.

_Wow._

_He’d rather stand next to the person who_ is actually supposed _to be a serial killer than the person who_ potentially might _be a serial killer._

_That’s actually kind of hilarious. This guy’s going to get himself killed one day._

Jack eyed them up and down. “What is this?”

Seeing as Scott didn’t look like he wanted to talk, Dave responded for him. “What _happened_ last night? I _know_ Scott didn’t do anything, and I didn’t even get the _chance_ , since you wouldn’t even let me give you my offer- thanks for that, by the way. Scott and I were discussing if it was supposed to happen or not, and he said-”

“Wait, wait, hold on.” Jack cut Dave off abruptly. “ _Where_ were you guys talking about it?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, were you talking _inside_ or _outside_ of the Safe Room?”

“O-outside?” Scott responded. “Why, what-”

“ _Shit_!” Jack exclaimed loudly, startling him. “Of _course_ you guys had to fuck this up this early.” He sighed. “Listen to me very carefully. One of you needs to go retrieve all of the footage tapes from today and yesterday, and bring them back here to me. Don’t go together, that’d be too suspicious. Once you’re back here, I can-”

“What are you _doing_?” Dave interrupted.

Jack glared at him. “Saving your lives, you stupid bastard. Now, once you’re back here, I can edit your conversation out of the footage. It’ll just look like the audio got corrupted. With any luck, no one will think otherwise, but you guys need to _hurry_ before someone accesses it remotely.” No one moved. “Well?”

“I’ll go.” Dave volunteered. “You act too suspicious on camera.” he added to Scott, who responded “Just…be back soon, please.”

Dave nodded, and sprinted out of the room. He saw Scott close it after him, before fading out of view.

_Well._

**_Fuck._ **

…

With Dave now out of the picture, Scott turned to Jack. “W-why do we need to destroy the footage? There’s- no one did anything illegal on it, right?”

“ _Edit_ , not destroy.” Jack responded. “That’d be too suspicious. And trust me, if you were even _talking_ about ‘what was supposed to happen’, you’re in trouble.”

“I-I thought I was just not supposed to talk about it with you! Did I-did I memorize that whole script for nothing?”

“’ _script_ ’? ‘ ** _memorize_** ’?!” Jack frantically grabbed Scott’s shoulders, startling him. “Jesus _Christ_ , this is worse than I thought. Scott, the ‘ _script_ ’ is supposed to be _preprogrammed_. The fact that you even _had_ the conscious decision to follow it or not means that something is very, **_very_** wrong here.”

“I-I thought, when I messed up, you knew it was because I didn’t know the script very well!”

“I thought you were just another glitchy model!” Jack shot back, his voice frantic. “I didn’t know you were self-aware! My **God**.” Jack pressed his palm aggressively into his forehead. “Is- by any chance, is Dave…?”

“Yeah.” Jack didn’t have to finish the question. Scott knew what he was asking.

“ _Great_.” Jack pressed his other palm to his forehead. “ _Hoo_ **_fucking_** _boy_.”

The door re-opened, and Dave stepped through, holding an armload of tapes.

“Vin! Holy _heck_ , you won’t _believe_ what’s going on! It turns out that we-” Scott stopped abruptly, noticing the expression on Dave’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you…” Dave spoke slowly, as if unable to believe what he was saying. “Did you just call me ‘Vin’?”

“Oh, heck, sorry!” Scott apologized quickly. “You just…reminded me of someone I used to…” He trailed off, as it was clear that Dave wasn’t listening to him. Instead, he was laughing gently. “’Scotty’. I should have figured it out earlier.” Dave looked right where Scott’s eyes would have been, and smiled softly. “I’ve missed you, Gabriel.”

Scott stumbled slightly, taken aback. There was _no way_. There was only one person who called him ‘Gabriel’, but he was… _of course_. _It all made sense now_.

“ _Jackson_!”

Vincent smiled wider, and opened his arms, dropping the tapes on the floor. Scott nearly leapt into his embrace, almost knocking both of them to the floor before Vincent found his balance. He laughed warmly. “You know, I’m surprised that you remembered my last name long enough to do that.”

“Shut up, Vincent. Just _shut up_.” Scott laughed giddily. “Oh my Gosh, I should have known from day one. You _never_ shut up about that goose.”

Vincent laughed again, his eyes filling with happy tears. “I got that fucker _good_. I have the right to talk about it as much as I want. You can’t tell me what to do, you never punched a goose because ‘ _blah blah blah nature blah blah blah chaotic evil blah blah_ -”

“HEY!” Jack yelled, startling the two out of their reunion. “Remember ‘ _imminent death_ ’”?! _Because that’s still a thing and it’s still coming for both of you if you don’t **pass me those tapes**_.”

“Sorry.” Vincent apologized sheepishly, reaching for the tapes that he had let fall on the floor. Scott helped him pass them to Jack, neither of them speaking.

“So.” Jack broke the silence. “I gather you guys knew each other before… _this_ happened?” Scott nodded, before realizing that Jack couldn’t see him, as he was working on the tapes. “Yeah.”

“How?”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Vincent responded quickly. Scott tried to shoot him a warning glance, which was unsuccessful, because he didn’t have eyes. Oblivious, Vincent continued talking. “We were boyf-”

“CO-WORKERS.” Scott aggressively cut him off. Vincent turned to him, and smiled. “You know, the death glare doesn’t work anymore now that you don’t have eyes.”

“I…may have forgotten about that.”

“ ** _How do you forget that you don’t have eyes_**?! It’s your own face! You have to-”

“Done!” Jack announced, interrupting him. Scott figured that he just was tired of listening to them arguing. “All right, your conversation is out, and I’m out too. Did you two manage to fuck up anything else?”

“Wait, why did you to remove _yourself_ from the tapes? I thought it was just _us_ that was the problem?” Vincent asked, confused.

“Well…” Jack thought for a moment. “Let’s just say that I have a… _legacy_ of being around when things go horribly wrong. If they don’t know I’m here, it’s probably going to end better for both of you. Oh, right, that reminds me!” He pointed at Scott. “I’m dead.”

Scott had no idea how to respond to that. “…”

“Heck, I’ve always wanted to try this!” Jack continued, unprompted. He sounded almost giddy with excitement. “I’ve never yet had both a Purple guy _and_ a Phone guy on my side to make it work!” He seemed to be mostly talking to himself now. “Ha! This is going to be great!”

“Wait, wait, hold on!” Vincent interrupted. “ ** _What_**?!”

“Yeah, what do you mean, ‘never yet’?” Scott questioned. “’always wanted’?” What does that even mean?”

“…Wow.” Jack shook his head absentmindedly. “You two are _really_ self-aware. Alright, to put it quickly, I’ve done this before. Like, _a lot_. Sometimes it’s the Purple Guy who’s self-aware, and sometimes it’s the Phone Guy. Sometimes, it’s both, or neither. Varying degrees of self-awareness, and varying degrees of success on my part, but I’ve never had both of you hyper-self-aware simultaneously. Like I said, I’ve done this _a lot_ , so that means I also know what we have to do in order to not get caught.” Scott mentally noted that now _Jack_ was using ‘we’. So they really _were_ all in this together.

Vincent was silent for a moment. “But, how do we know-”

“-that we can trust you?” Jack finished his sentence with him. “You don’t, but right now, I’m your best shot at survival. If you guys follow my instructions I can promise-well, no, I _can’t_ promise that you’ll both make it out alive, but I _can_ promise that I’ll help you to the best of my ability.” Jack looked at both of them. “Any questions?”

“I don’t get it.” Scott said after a pause. “Why are you trying to help us?”

Jack smiled. “For the banter.”

A loud ringing noise erupted from Scott’s phone-head, startling him and Vincent. Jack looked unphased. “Ah, that _never_ gets old. Sorry, continue?”

“I **mean** …” Scott took a moment to organize his words. “If you know about…all of _this_ , why don’t you just- turn us both in to the police or something?”

“Crafty Ending.” Jack responded, deadpan. “I’ve _tried_ that, Scott. The _only_ way to change _anything_ is to get you guys out of here alive. Well…at least, as alive as a phone-headed cyborg and a purple zombie can possibly be.”

“Wait, you’ve said ‘alive’ twice now.” Vincent noted. “What do you mean by that? Are we _supposed_ to die or something?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“ _Kind of_?! You can’t-”

“Ok, fine!” Jack raised his hands in surrender. “How this is _supposed_ to go is that the new dayshift worker,” he pointed to himself, “either accepts or rejects,” he pointed to Vincent, “ _your_ deal,” he finally pointed to Scott, “ _you_ frame someone for the murders, and we all end up dead some way or another by the end of the week. My goal, obviously, is to have that _not_ happen.”

“So-” Vincent paused. “Sorry to bring back up an old point, but what do you mean, you’re _dead_?”

“What I **mean** ,” Jack said, “is that I need Scott to tell the Factory that I’m dead. They’ll send you a new dayshift worker. We’re going to need all the help that we can get, and it’ll end better for all of us if I’m _completely_ off the radar.”

“…Should I call them now, or…?” Scott asked. Jack nodded. “It’s the default number. Just try to make a call without entering anything, and you should reach them.”

“A-alright, here goes…”

One ring.

Two rings,

Three rings-

_Click_.

“ _Hello?! Hello, Hello?! I mean, uhhhh- Hello, Afton Robotics, front desk._ This is Scottie speaking. How can I help you today?”

“Hi, I-I’m…” Vincent placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder for reassurance, and he continued. “Um, I’m Scott, and-”

Scottie cut him off with a laugh. “Gonna need a little more than that, hon.”

“Huh? Oh, r-right!” Scott paused for a moment to think. “Model 72_01?”

“Hold on…” Aggressive typing noises came from the other end of the line. “You run Location 89, right? What’re you calling about?”

“I, um…my dayshift worker died.”

“And that’s…” The typing stopped. “Holy _heck, Jack Kennedy_? **The** _Jack Kennedy_?!”

Scott turned to Jack, who quietly whispered “ _What can I say_? _I’m famous_!”

“Um, yeah.”

“Wow! He’d been here for so long… Ooh, how’d he finally go?”

“He-” Jack tapped Scott on his shoulder to get his attention, and then mouthed something. “He, um, He…did a flip in a springlock suit?”

A pause, and then laughter. “The _absolute **madman**_. That sounds like Jack, alright.” More typing. “I’m sending a new dayshift worker right now. He should be there by tomorrow morning. Anything else?”

“N-no, thanks.”

“Anytime, sugar.” And, with that, the call ended.

Vincent started speaking abruptly. “Okay, I can’t delay it anymore. What are we planning on doing about the bodies?”

Jack turned to him, eyes wide with shock. “The **_WHAT_**?!”

“The bodies? You know, the whole reason we brought you here to talk in the first place?”

Jack wasn’t listening. “Oh my god, I can’t believe-” He spun around in a full circle to point an accusatory finger at Vincent. “You **sick _fuck_**. You had _free will_! You could control what you were doing, and you **_fucking_** -”

“E-N-O-U-G-H. Vincent didn’t kill anyone! That’s exactly why we brought you to the Safe Room in the first place!” From the look on Jack’s face, Scott could gather that he had his attention. He continued speaking, slightly less aggressively than when he had started. “We thought that you might know what had happened, since neither of us did anything, and now there’s bodies _everywhere_.”

“Actually, there’re just five.” Vincent reported.

“ **Not helping**.” Scott shot back, before continuing to talk to Jack. “We thought, you either had to have seen _something_ , or…” Scott didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“No, I didn’t.” Jack said, without specifying which possibility he was denying. “It-” He paused for a second to think. “It’s probably some sort of failsafe, to keep the story going even if the Purple Guy can’t get the job done. But…if a failsafe went off, it means that _someone_ somewhere knows about your mistake. I’d stay alert, if I were you.” He continued, now addressing Scott. “If you want to figure out what happened, I’d advise staying back to talk to the nightguard.”

“’nightguard’?”

“Yeah, the guy who works here at night. Keeps the demons from getting out. He shows up around 11:30, so…” Jack lifted his wrist to his face, before realizing that he wasn’t wearing a watch. He rummaged around in his pocket, and pulled out a… _something_. “ _Heck_ , we should leave before it starts getting suspicious. Scott, you should go wait in the Security Office if you want to ask the nightguard about what happened last night. Vincent and I will take care of the bodies.”

“We _will_?” Jack glared at him. “I mean, yeah, we will! I’ll…I’ll see you tomorrow, Scott.”

Scott grabbed Vincent’s shoulder. “Don’t die on me before I get to see you again.”

Vincent met his invisible gaze. “Not planning on it.”

“ _No one ever does_ …” Jack commented quietly to himself. Before anyone could respond, He turned to Vincent. “Aright, we should get going. See you on the flipside!” He added to Scott, leading Vincent out of the room. Vincent waved to Scott until the door slammed shut, obscuring Scott’s view of him.

_Well_.

**_Heck_**.

…

“Hey, Jack?”

“Mmm?” Jack turned towards Vincent.

“I was wondering…why do you say ‘See you on the flipside!’ so much?”

Jack looked him directly in the eyes. “I’m trying to piss off a ghost.”

Vincent was silent for a moment. “…Ah. I see.” Based on his tone of voice, he did _not_ ‘see’, but he refrained from pressing further.

Jack stopped walking. “Okay, we should split up here. Do you know where the bodies are?”

Vincent nodded. “Why?”

“Bring them outside. We’re going to bury them. _It’ll be a first for this place_.”

“Gotcha.” Vincent started walking in the opposite direction, leaving Jack alone in the room. After a few moments of searching, he located a body.

_God, I hate this part_.

As he started to pick up the small corpse, he noticed… _something_ fall out of it and float to the ground. Gently setting the body back down, he picked up the object. It was a small, neatly folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, and-

_Oh **god**_.

It read: “I know you’re here, Jack.”

Jack dropped the paper as if it had bitten him, turned, and sprinted out of the room. “ _Vincent_?!”

“Yeah?” Vincent called back.

Jack followed his voice until he arrived in the same room, out of breath. Vincent was carefully holding a small corpse, concern written all over his face. “You ok?”

“ **Put**. **That**. **Down**.” The pauses between the words were for him to breathe, not for emphasis, but Vincent quickly complied anyway. “Change of plans. You get out of here. I’ll call you back in later. _There’s something that I need to take care of_.”

Vincent nodded wordlessly, then turned to run out of the building. Jack was now alone with the small body. He lifted the party hat to reveal- another note. _Of course_.

“But it doesn’t matter this time.”

_How’d they know I would check here next_?!

Several minutes of frantic searching later, Jack had compiled the whole message, He was almost afraid to read it, but did so anyway.

“I know you’re here, Jack.

But it doesn’t matter this time.

It’s almost ready.

**I’m** almost ready.

**It’s almost time to show the whole world the Joy Of Creation**.”

Jack shoved the notes into his pocket, then ran outside to retrieve Vincent. “You can come back in now.”

Vincent eyed him curiously. “What were you up to in there?”

“Nothing important.”

_I hope_ …

_Six hours later_ …

_But, I mean, what if he’s tricking us? If he really knows what’s going on, then_ -

Scott was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a door opening, accompanied by a quiet male singing voice. “ _We’re no strangers to lo-ove_ …”

_Oh god, not this song again_.

Unfortunately, the new arrival was not telepathic. “ _You know the ru-ules, and so do I_ …”

_End the pain_.

The voice continued to approach the office. “ _A full commitment’s what I’m, thinking of_ …”

It sounded like the stranger was right outside his door. Scott looked up at him.

The first thing he noticed was the stranger’s distinct lack of hair.

The second thing he noticed was that he still had his eyes closed, belting out what was apparently his favorite part of the song. “ _You wouldn’t get this from_! _Any_! _Other_! _Guy_! _I, just_ -”

He opened his eyes, spotted Scott standing in front of him, and shrieked, in a voice much higher than his singing voice. “WHO THE **FUCK** ARE YOU?!”

Scott could barely stop himself from laughing. “I’m your _manager_.”

The stranger appeared to ponder this for a moment. “Oh, shit.” he announced, before sinking into the swivel chair in front of the monitors. “..I’m not high, I swear to God, but your head’s like…”

“A phone. Yes, I know. _Please_ don’t ask me to explain why, because I can’t.”

The nightguard sighed with relief. “Oh thank **God**. I thought I was losing my mind for a second there.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” Scott laughed. “I’m Scott, by the way.”

The newcomer extended his hand, and Scott shook it. “…Mike. Mike Schmidt.”

“So…did you see anything… **unusual** last night?”

Mike laughed. “You mean besides _literally everything else here_? No, not really. Why?”

_I’ll have to ask Jack later if we can trust him_. “No reason, just…curious.”

“Well, unless you’re curious about what a springlock failure feels like, I’d advise that you get out of here soon. We don’t have much longer until they wake up.”

“Good plan.” Scott thought for a moment. “Hey, is there any chance that you could come here during the day tomorrow? I need your help with…” He glanced meaningfully at the camera in the room. “ _a thing_.”

Mike followed Scott’s head tilt, then looked back at him, nodding in understanding. “Yeah, I can definitely drop by at some point.”

“Great. See you then.” Scott had almost finished exiting the room before he remembered to say goodbye. “Good luck!”

_I’ve had enough ‘See you on the flipside!’ to last a lifetime_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know my taste in music is trash, sue me.  
> What'd you think? Setup seem promising so far? I've been working on this idea for a year and a half now, so I really hope it is.  
> It's gonna get a lot more fun in the coming chapters, promise.  
> Speaking of more fun, the final two main characters are coming next chapter! If you can guess them, you get _~~my love and adoration~~_ to hear me excitedly rant about them because **they're so underutilized and they could be really cool if anyone bothered to pay attention to them _uuuugh_**  
> ...Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed! See you guys next month! Remember to take care of yourselves!
> 
> ...Bye!


	3. COLORBARS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Soon we’ll televise our C-O-L-O-R,  
> now leave me blinded and erase my memories!  
> Soon you’ll be a part of C-O-L-O-R,  
> we leave you nauseous and it changes everything!  
> And in a moment you will notice nothing’s quite the same  
> when my COLORBARS are mixing frequencies!  
> Turn the signal down, and spin around in the opposite direction-  
> and now, will you please applaud?”  
> -COLORBARS by GHOST

_Okay, now this is just getting ridiculous._

This was Scott’s second time re-entering the pizzeria without actually remembering leaving in the first place.

_Is this a phone guy thing? Would Jack know about it? Does Vincent have it too?_

_Oh, right- Vincent._

_I hope he’s okay._

Unlocking the door and swinging it open, Scott noticed a piece of paper taped to the inside-side. _Weird._ He ripped it down and read the note hastily scrawled in orange pen.

“ _Scott, I forgot to mention: because I’m legally dead at this point, I can’t be in view of the cameras. Find Vincent, show him this (but no talking, you dumbasses), and meet me in the saferoom as soon as possible . See you ~~on the flipside~~ there, Jack._”

The last part looked like it had been violently scratched out. _That’s a first._ Scott was still contemplating the strange censorship when he spotted someone Naruto-running into the room. “Scott!” It was Vincent. _Oh, jeebs._

“Hello? Hello, Hello?” _Takethehinttakethehinttakethehint-_

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Scott, why’re you-”

“T-that’s _Mr. Cawthon_ to you, employee!” Scott practically yelled while jabbing his head aggressively towards the nearest security camera. It felt like his receiver was about to fall off. _Come on you stupid ############-_

Vincent stopped short, as if suddenly realizing something, then glanced not-at-all-discretely up at the camera and chuckled nervously “Right. My mistake, Mr… uh, sir… my dude.” He ended the sentence with finger guns.

Scott dug his nails into his palm to stop himself from laughing. “Welcome back, employee. I hope you’re ready to work hard today!”

Vincent gave Dave’s accent another valiant attempt for his response. “ ** _Fuck_** _yeah_ , Scotty boi!”

“ _No swearing in my good Christian Minecra_ -…er, Pizzeria. Anyway, um… Employee, there’s something I need to show you.” Scott held the note in front of Vincent. _Improv skills, don’t fail me now…_

“OwO?” Vincent grabbed the note, quickly scanned it over, and then looked back up at Scott. “What’s this?”

Scott silently took a deep breath. _Remember, flustered business official. You got this._ “ _W-what does it **l-look** like_?! It’s…Don’t m-make me say it!”

“Huh?” Vincent pretended to look it over one more time. “Oh, yeah, it is! Oooh, I wonder where it came from…”

“Tha-that’s not important!” Scott snatched the note from Vincent’s hands and balled it up in mock ‘disgust’. “We, we need to find where it-… _came…from_ …” He glared up at Vincent, who was snickering into his shirt collar. “I-it’s not funny! We need to find it now, before some… _kid_ gets their hands on it!”

“Right, right.” Vincent said, making ‘ _calm down_ ’ motions with his hands. “I think I saw another one of those in the…safe room?” He winced, probably realizing how suspect his words sounded. “Anyway, I think it’s worth checking out.”

“O-okay. After you.” Scott gestured in front of him, and Vincent took off, Scott following close behind. Arriving at the safe room in a matter of seconds, Vincent yanked the door open, allowed both Scott and himself to enter, and then swiftly whirled it shut behind them. He turned to face Scott, eyes alight with giddiness, and held out his hand for a high five. Scott took it. “Dude,” Vincent started, “that was awesome. How’d you come up with that stuff?”

Scott laughed breathily. “Practice.”

“Think you could teach me? Wait, no, never mind, I have a question. What exactly _were_ we pretending that the note was?”

“…####.”

Vincent flinched at the sudden ringing noise. “…I’m sorry, repeat?”

“####-” Scott phone-palmed. “ _I don’t know why I thought that would be different the second time._ I’ll tell you later. Right now, we have more important things to deal with. **_Jack_**?”

As if on cue, the swivel chair in the room spun around, revealing a very orange man inhabiting it. He paused to survey the scene, then spoke. “You’re both here? Alright, good.” He smiled eerily wide. “Listen up, motherfuckers, ‘cause I’m gonna learn you a thing about getting away with accidentally not committing a crime that you legally should have but morally shouldn’t!”

“…” Vincent gaped in shock for a second. “…How long have you been working on that line?”

Jack grinned manically. “I haven’t slept in 50 years.” He spun around to kick off the wall, pushing himself towards the newcomers, letting out a “ _shit, shit, shit_ -” as he overshot his target and slammed into the wall. “Ow…”

“Wait, how did you even get inside in the first place?” Scott questioned.

“…Not…important.” Jack panted, heaving himself onto his feet. Once he was upright, he seemed fine again, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. _He never ceases to amaze._

“Alright!” Jack announced, mostly to himself. “The key ingredient to our plan right now is keeping up the façade. Because me and Vincent-”

“Vincent and _I_.” Scott interjected.

“ ** _Fuck you._** ” Jack responded without skipping a beat. “Because Vincent and _IIIIIII_ were moving the bodies yesterday- thanks for the assist on that, by the way,” Vincent shot him finger guns “-they’ll think that I’m doing a Dave-route. That means we have to-”

“Sorry, what’s a Dave-route?” Scott interrupted.

“And who’s ‘they’?” Vincent added.

Jack glared at them. “ **Amateurs**.” Reverting back to his default facial expression, he continued. “’Means I’m siding with ‘Dave’ on this one. He killed people, I killed people, yadda yadda yadda.”

Scott nodded. “Fully understood. Please continue.”

“ _I just wanna know who ‘they’ are_ …” Vincent whined as Jack tried to complete his speech. “Because it looks like we both killed the kids, that means-”

Vincent’s hand shot up like he was waiting to be called on. Jack sighed. “ _Yes_ , Vincent? Pray tell, what is important enough to justify interrupting my monologue for the _third time_?”

“You said ‘looks’.” Vincent pointed out.

“ _For the love of_ -” Jack aggressively pressed his palm into his forehead. “Yes, _dipshit_ , I did say ‘looks’. **_Anyone else_**?!”

Scott caught onto what Vincent was trying to convey. “…Why would it ‘look’ like something?”

Jack was practically growling at this point. “ _Because the cameras_ \- oh my god.”

“Exactly!” Vincent exclaimed triumphantly “If it looks like something…”

“… _that means that I was on the cameras after I ‘died’_.” Jack was silent for a few seconds, then reached out and struck the wall with his fist. “ ** _FUCK_**!” He yelled, startling the room’s other two inhabitants. “ _I am in no way a professional_ …”

Vincent gently placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Are we fucked?”

Jack laughed, startling him. “No, we’re not fucked yet. I just have to work it into my plan for today.”

“Plan?”

“Yeah.” Jack sighed. “I think this is as good of a time as any to explain it. So, working strategy- running with the Dave route. If the worker died on the second day…” He leaned on his arm for a second, lost in thought, before snapping out of it and springing back up. “‘Dave’’d probably convince the new one to join him for the remainder of his plan.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s it! We’ll need to convince the new worker to fill my role in the story for the rest of the week.”

“Sorry, ‘new worker’?” Vincent asked, confused. “Did I miss something?”

“‘They’’re sending a new worker to fill Jack’s slot, since he… you know… died.” Scott explained.

“Right…and I have to convince them to join me?”

“Not necessarily.” Jack interjected. “We can just tell them about what’s actually going on. I’m pretty sure that they’d join us once they learned that we were their only ticket out of here alive.”

“What’s with the optimism?” Scott questioned. “You don’t strike me as the type to trust easy.”

“ _Oh, don’t worry_!” Jack laughed. “I don’t. If they seem like they’d rat us out, we could always just kill them here. No cameras in the safe room!”

Scott laughed awkwardly, and Vincent joined him after a moment. _I_ really _hope he’s kidding._

The same alarm that sounded when Jack arrived on the first day went off. “Scott, I think you need to get going.”

Scott’s voice rose about an octave in panic. “W-wait, what do I say to them? I don’t-”

“Just act casual and get them into the safe room! I can handle it from there.” Jack instructed, pushing a resisting Scott towards the door. “You’ll be fine! Remember, you’re the goddamn _manager_.”

“ _Hell_ yeah!” Vincent exclaimed. “Good luck!”

“I’ll see you guys again soon.” Scott promised, mostly to himself, as he opened the door and stepped outside.

“See you on the fli-” Jack’s goodbye was cut short by Scott slamming the door in his face.

…

Rushing back towards the prize corner, Scott spotted someone that hadn’t been there before. The newcomer’s hair was covering the majority of their face, and- yep, coming closer, there was no mistaking it. They were humming loudly, and tapping their foot to their own beat.

_Oh good lord that’s adorable._

Seemingly not noticing Scott’s presence yet, the newcomer got more animated, quietly vocalizing to the rhythm and moving their fists through the air like they were holding drumsticks.

_I should probably stop them before they embarrass themselves any further._ “Hello?”

The newcomer jumped into what appeared to be a full-body flinch before apologizing profusely. “I- U-um, I’m- I-I’m sorry! I-I just wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t expect y-you to be here so early a-and I-”

“Hey, it’s fine, it’s fine!” Scott assured them, trying out Vincent’s ‘ _calm down_ ’-hands from earlier. “I’m really sorry for startling you…Uh, I didn’t happen to catch your name.”

The newcomer shook the hair out of their face, revealing a large question mark. “…J-Jeremy. Jeremy F-Fitzgerald. I-I’m the new dayshift-worker, after J-Jack…u-um…” He trailed off, looking downcast, before springing back up, all excitement and energy. “B-but, I promise, I-I’m gonna work super hard! I-I know I p-probably didn’t give the b-best first impression, but I s-swear I’ll do whatever y-you need me to, sir!” He looked up at Scott, smiling brightly.

Scott laughed kindly. _I’m **not** letting this kid die. Not on my watch. _“You can just call me Scott.”

“O-okay, Scott!”

If he could’ve, Scott would’ve smiled. “Jeremy, can you come with me real quick? I need to show you something.” _I’m probably rushing things, but we need to get him in now, before anyone realizes something’s up._

Jeremy looked confused, but followed Scott as he started walking towards the safe room. “B-but, sir-…U-um, Scott…I-isn’t there supposed to be, l-like…A-an interview, o-or something l-like that?”

“Uh-…Yeah, of course. There’s just one thing we have to take care of first.”

“A-alright…”

Seconds later, they arrived at the safe room, and Scott opened it, gesturing for Jeremy to walk in before him. “After you.”

Jeremy complied, stepping in, followed by Scott, who turned around and closed the door, leaving them both in darkness.

…

After what felt like far too long for a simple introduction, Vincent’s attention was drawn to the door swinging open, and someone he’d never seen before stepping through. He noted the question mark on their face instantly. _They look like they fit right in here._

After Scott entered and shut the door behind him, the newcomer scanned across the room, seeming startled to spot its two occupants. As Vincent raised his hand to wave, the newcomer started slowly backing away from him, bumping into Scott in the process as he tried to clear the door. “U-um…I-I-I…”

“Jeremy?” Scott placed his hand on the newcomer’s shoulder, who flinched. “Everything’s okay. I promise, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.”

“ _Still waiting on that myself…_ ” Vincent muttered, earning a ‘glare’ from Scott. “’Jeremy’, right?” The newcomer nodded. “Well, Jeremy, whereas I can’t confirm for that bastard,” Vincent pointed at Jack, who waved, “I can promise that Scott and I aren’t dangerous.”

“That’s a first.” Jack cut in. “Jeremy, have you signed anything?”

Jeremy paused in thought for a second, then nodded. “T-they had me sign a-a couple forms before I c-could come here.”

“Well then, congratulations!” Jack exclaimed. “You’re trapped.”

“E-excuse m-me?” Jeremy seemed shocked, and Vincent raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t heard of _this_ before.

“Ya ever heard of fine print?” Jeremy nodded. “Well, in those ‘forms’ you signed, there’s a little line that…Oh, what was the wording again? ‘ _Signer agrees to not leave Fazbender’s until on or after the date of personal expiration_ ’?” Jack laughed. “Anyway, regardless of how they phrased it, the point is that you’re stuck here until you die. Which, honestly, is likely to be soon, with the way things are shaping up.”

Jeremy sounded like he was hyperventilating. He leaned against the closest wall in a desperate gambit to stay standing. “I-I…”

“Jack, stop scaring him!” Scott yelled, before turning to Jeremy and lowering his voice. “Jeremy, it’ll be fine, okay? I promise, I won’t let you die.”

“Yeah, Jack, please stop talking. You’re not exactly helping our case here.” Vincent stopped talking for a second to think. “Hey, wait, did me and Scott sign those forms too? Is that why w-”

“S-so…I-I take it he’s n-not dead?” Jeremy spoke quickly, without removing his gaze from the floor

Jack started to laugh, looking very pleased with himself. “ _Oh_ …Yeah, no.” He took a breath to compose himself before continuing to talk. “Jeremy?” He waited until Jeremy looked up at him to finish his question. “Do you want to live?”

Jeremy pushed off the wall to right himself, and nodded. “W-what do I h-have to do?”

Instead of answering his question, Jack asked another one. “…Do you know anything about cameras?”

Jeremy nodded eagerly. “Y-yeah! I’ve a-actually taken a f-few classes!”

Jack changed the question slightly. “Do you know anything about _breaking_ cameras?”

Jeremy laughed gently. “I-I mean, not on p-purpose, but y-yeah.”

“Alright, here’s your assignment.” Jack spun in his chair to face Jeremy directly. “I need you to mess with the cameras! You’re our only hope of getting away with this thing!” He practically yelled, complete with the accent that Vincent couldn’t do to save his life. Everyone in the room, including the two without eyes, stared at him in confusion. Jack laughed guiltily. “Hehe, sorry. Couldn’t help myself. Anyway…The cameras are in the Dining Area, the Show Stage, Pirate’s Cove and the security office Camera-Terminal. I need you to completely disable them, and then bring me the tapes. There’s some footage on there that I need to… _erase_ …”

“O-on it!” Waving goodbye, Jeremy practically sprinted out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Scott turned to Jack. “‘Completely disable them’? If our antics yesterday didn’t tip ‘them’ off, _that_ definitely will.”

“ _Relax_ , phone-face.” Jack spun a full 360 degrees to face him. “An official Dave-route requires tampering with the cameras today. Vincent, as the resident ‘Dave’ of the group, what _do_ your lines say to do to the cameras?”

“Ummm…” Vincent thought for a second. “‘Mess’, ‘disable’, ‘tamper’? They never specify, actually.”

“ _Exactly_!” Jack snapped his fingers. “With no specifics in the lines, we can disable the cameras _and_ corrupt the footage, and they’ll just chalk it up to Jeremy’s interpretation of your instructions. And, since there are no more events regarding the cameras, we can just keep them turned off for the rest of the week. That way, we can talk in the open, instead of having to crowd in here anytime we need to speak.” He made a flourishing motion with his hands.

“…Wow.” Vincent was impressed. “You _really_ thought this through.”

Jack smiled. “I mean, I’ve-”

The noise that Vincent had come to think of as the ‘someone’s here’ alarm went off.

“ **Again**?!” Scott growled. He was walking towards the door when Jack sprinted after him and grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving. “Wait!”

“Yeah?” Scott turned to Jack.

“Be careful out there. No one else was supposed to show up today. For all we know, it could be someone from the company who’s gotten word of what’s going on.” Jack scanned around the room, eyes settling on a ceiling tile. “I’m going to hide,” He announced, jumping up onto the desk and pushing the tile up and to the side, creating a gap. “Vincent, you _cannot_ leave the safe room. That’s where ‘Dave’ stays the whole day, and it’s where you need to stay too.”

Vincent could feel the shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Well, this certainly is an… _interesting_ predicament.”

Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh, what?”

“Well…” Vincent’s stupid smile grew larger as he explained. “If I can’t leave this room, then one could say that I’m… _Stuck_ …in what could potentially be described as a _Ho_ -”

Scott’s hand flew to his face out of instinct. “ _Oh my_ _ffff_ -” He shook his head aggressively, powerwalking towards the door, “- **HECKING** Gosh, you can’t go **_one day_ **without making that **stupid joke** , can you?”

Vincent smirked. “It’s always worth it to see your face. Err…lack thereof.”

Scott just sighed. As Jack started to ask “Okay, what the **HE** -”, he slammed the door in both their faces for the second time that day.

…

The alarm sounds again as Scott sprints towards the door. _Jeez, they’re impatient._ He stopped in front of the door, reviewing his lines again in case of an emergency. _Come on, you can_ totally _pass for a mindless prototype. Just don’t think about it too much. Actually, don’t think about it at all._ He quickly pulled the door open before he had any more time to contradict himself.

On the other side was a stranger with… _absurdly_ large glasses. They fidgeted with their sleeve for a second before looking up and noticing Scott. “Oh. Hello!” They waved. “I’m Fritz Smith, a technician for Fazbender Entertainment. Can I come in?”

“What? Oh, yeah, sure.” Scott stepped to the side, letting Fritz enter. “I’m Scott Ga-”

“CAWTHON.” Fritz skillfully cut him off before he could finish. “Right, I know you.” He extended his hand for Scott to shake. When Scott took it, he felt something small press against his palm. He looked up at Fritz, who didn’t break ‘eye’ contact while pressing it into Scott’s hand with his thumb. Deciding that was enough of a hint, Scott palmed the object and slid it behind his shirt cuff.

Fritz dropped his hand. “I’m just here to check up on the animatronics. It’s all routine, don’t worry. You can come talk to me if you have any questions about it, though.” He suddenly stared over Scott’s shoulder intently. “Uuuh…Is he…?”

_Thud._ “O-ow!” There was only one person that that could have come from.

Scott sighed. “Dave-route, day three.”

“Gotcha.” Fritz turned to leave. “If you need me, I’ll be around.”

Quickly scanning around the room, Scott turned so that his back was to the camera and fished the object out of his sleeve. It was a small, folded piece of paper. Scott unfolded and read it.

From what he could make out, “ **SORRY, THIS WAS THE ONLY PAPER I HAD ON ME. READ THE BACK** ” had been roughly scratched on the note to cover the text of “ _Do you like me??? <3 <3 <3 Yes / / No / / Maybe / /_”. Scott stifled a snort and flipped the paper over.

_Hi. You don’t know me, but I’m on your side. The higher-ups are getting suspicious, and they sent me in to make sure that the animatronics were twitchy and haunted. I can give them a fake report, but then it’s my own ass if they find out. Got a plan?_

_Of course._ Scott grabbed a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote a response underneath. _How did they find out? Vague idea of a plan. We got some guy who’s done this before, but he’s sketchy as hell and won’t tell us what’s going on. Ever heard of Jack Kennedy?_

Scott started running over to deliver the message before he had even planned out what to say. “Fritz?”

The technician turned around, seemingly shocked to see the paper in Scott’s hands. “Yeah?”

“Um…I…uh…have a list of…um…” Scott snapped his fingers. “Problems! With the animatronics that the other workers and I thought that you should take a look at.” Scott passed Fritz the paper.

Fritz quickly scanned it over, then looked up at Scott and smiled. “Right! Sure thing, Scott. I’ll take care of these right away. Thank you!” Scott waved him off, and then went back to pretending that he wasn’t just waiting for Fritz’s response. About a minute later, the technician was finished.

“Scott?”

Scott walked back over to Fritz. “Mmhmm?”

“I looked over your list. Thought you might want it back.” Fritz tossed it in Scott’s direction, who caught it effortlessly. He didn’t even wait until he had walked away to read it.

_Won’t give me specifics. Just said that they want to make sure everything is ‘running smoothly’, whatever the hell that means. You got **Jack**?! Of course I’ve heard of him, he’s been the bane of everyone’s collective existences for years! They keep trying to kill him, but he keeps coming back. That’s his thing, or so I’ve heard. If you’ve got at least part of a plan, any chance I ~~can~~ ~~be a part of it~~ ~~help~~ could join? I’ve heard Jack’s the only one who’s ever got anyone out of this godforsaken place alive._

Scott quickly scribbled his response. _I’ll have to ask him once Jeremy’s done breaking the cameras. Then we can actually talk instead of passing these stupid notes like kids. It’s gotta be suspicious at this point, no sane people care **this much** about a list. _Then he folded it into a paper airplane. “Fritz?”

Fritz looked up at him. Scott threw the plane, and it bonked Fritz in the face before he caught it.

A voice came from the corner of the room. “A-alright, d-done!”

And Jack fell out of the ceiling, slamming back-first into the ground. “Finally.” He commented, seemingly unphased by his fall. He made no attempt to get up.

The alarm went off again, and Scott only had enough time to turn his head toward the door before someone stepped through. It was Mike.

Scott watched as he scanned around the room, taking in the newcomer with a question mark for a face _hanging_ off of a broken camera on the wall, and Scott, with _another_ stranger, hovering over what appeared to be a _talking orange corpse_ on the floor. “…”

Finally, he spoke.

“What the **_fuck_**?”

…

Jack was the first to react. “Oh jeez, another one.” He proclaimed, pushing himself off of the floor. “Scott, strangle him.”

“What?” Scott wasn’t even sure who he was talking about. “Jack, no, he’s in on it. Err- both of them are.”

“ _Great_.” Jack exclaimed, his voice betraying no emotions. “Now we _really_ need to get to work. Can someone _please_ go get Vincent?”

“I’m sorry,” Mike responded, not sounding sorry at all, “who? Where? What? What the _fuck_ is going on?!”

Jack stared at him. “Gay baby jail.”

“ _Gay baby_ -”

“O-ON IT!” Jeremy exclaimed, running out of the room, presumably to retrieve the aforementioned.

“Now that that’s out of the way-” Jack swiveled around to point accusatorily at Fritz. “ _You_. Introduction. **Now**.”

“Um…” Fritz took a moment to gather his words. “I’m tech with Fazbender. They sent me to see if you guys were following the script, but I’m not going to do that because I want to get out of here as much as y’all do.”

Scott wished he could still portray facial expressions. “I’m sorry, did you just say ‘ _you guys_ ’ and ‘ _y’all_ ’ in the _same sentence_?”

Fritz turned to him. “…And the issue is?”

After a pause, Mike spoke. “Okay, let me get this straight…” He pointed at Fritz, “you’re a defector from Fazbender,” He pointed at Scott, “you’re a manager who’s…What was it, not ‘ _following the script_ ’?…” He pointed at Jack, “and _you’re_ …”

“Trying not to _die_ , thank you very much.” Jack responded, waving him off. “ _Where’s the twink_?!”

“Here!” Vincent burst into the room, Jeremy in tow. He stopped to stare at Mike. “Who’s this?”

Mike sighed. “Honestly, I don’t even know anymore. _What the fuck is going on_?”

“Yeah, an explanation would be nice.” Scott stated, and the rest of the room murmured their agreement.

Jack finally spoke up. “…Alright, here’s the fast version. You all know you can’t leave, right?”

Mike and Fritz nodded immediately. Jeremy took a second to think, then joined in. Scott and Vincent just looked at each other confusedly.

Jack noticed this. “C’mon, Vincent, you have lines about this. _Why_ can’t you guys leave?”

“Uuuh…” Vincent wracked his memory. “we signed something…can’t walk away…we know too much…they’ll kill us before they let us go.”

“ _Veeeeeery_ good.” Jack responded, slowly and condescendingly.

“But I don’t get it,” Scott interjected, “why put us here in the first place? What’s there to gain from it?”

“Wish I knew.” Jack shot back.

“Wait, more importantly, _who_ ’s keeping us here?” Vincent asked.

Jack pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed, then dropped it to respond. “Have any of you guys ever heard of Henry Miller?”

Fritz nodded. Everyone else just looked around, confused.

“Fritz,” Jack prompted, “What _have_ you been told about him?”

“Well…” Fritz thought for a moment. “He’s the guy who created this whole thing. Came up with the company, put it into action. Set up these locations. Believe it or not, this place started out as just a mediocre pizza joint. Now, I’m pretty sure we’re breaking every labor law that’s ever been written.”

“Ah.” Vincent nodded knowingly. “The Batterwitch.”

Scott whirled around to face him. “I swear to **gosh** I am going to _harvest_ your _**ribcage**_.”

Vincent smiled back. “Bold of you to assume that I have one.”

“…Okaaaay…” Jack commented, distracting the two from their ‘staring’ contest. “…Anyway, to add on to what he said, Henry’s the one who’s making these places as deadly as inhumanly possible, and he’s setting up the additional locations with the dead employees from previous ones.”

Jeremy and Mike just stared at him. “…”

“Oh, right, heck, you guys don’t even know about the factory!” Jack exclaimed. “Shit, no wonder you’re so confused!” He face-palmed. “Okay, basically, the factory is a place where you send employees that’ve died. They pull a little metal magic, hit that **mf** Joy of Creation, and send them back alive, but… _different_.”

“Usually, they wipe their memory and make them think that they’re different people with fake memories.” Fritz added.

“Right. Thanks, Fritz. Anyway, the people that they come back as are designed to work here, so they’re usually sent to a new location as soon as they do. They usually come back as one of two people.” Jack pointed to Scott, who took it upon himself to finish the explanation. “Um, I’m a phone guy. Half of the people come back looking like me. We run the place, hire people, deflect murder scandals, blah blah blah.” Scott pointed to Vincent. “And he-”

“I kill people!” Vincent contributed helpfully.

“He’s a purple guy.” Scott finished. “The other half look like him. He…uhh…kills people. He’s trying to get the place shut down, I’m trying to keep it afloat. _Usually_ , we don’t get along.”

“Oh, yeah, forgot to mention!” Jack interjected. “Scott and Vincent here are self-aware. Most phone guys and purple guys aren’t. Oh, and their names are usually ‘Scott Cawthon’ and ‘Dave Miller’. Our ‘Dave Miller’ is Vincent…Jackson, right?” Vincent nodded. “And our ‘Scott’’s just Scott, but his last name is Gabriel. What’re the odds of that, by the way?”

Scott just laughed. “I’m taking this as a sign that whatever’s out there approves of my choice.”

“A **-ayyyyyy**!” Jeremy exclaimed, and Scott shot him finger guns.

“Wait…” Fritz seemed like he had just realized something. “Sorry, but when you were talking about Henry, you used _present tense_. It seems like a stupid question, but…Are you implying that he’s **_still alive_**?”

“Uuh…Yeah?” Jack seemed confused. “I thought that that was common knowledge.”

Fritz looked like he was having a mental breakdown. “I-I was told that he died and we were all keeping this going for him!”

“That makes sense, honestly.” Jack mused. “Harder to pin a multi-million dollar crime on a dead guy, right?”

“I-I thought…” Scott patted Fritz’s shoulder comfortingly as he mumbled into his hands.

“Hey, you know what I just realized?” Vincent interrupted. “We haven’t even been introduced to each other!” Everyone looked at the people in the room that they didn’t know. “Right?”

“…Um, I’ll go first.” Scott volunteered. “Hello! My name’s Scott, and my head is a phone.”

“I’m Vincent! I’m our resident Dave & Buster’s in this godforsaken Chuck E. Cheese.”

“I-I’m Jeremy, the r-replacement day-guard…”

“…Mike. I work nights.”

“Fritz. I’m tech with Fazbender.”

Jack smiled. “And I’m Jack. I’m the giant rat bitch that makes all of the rules.”

“I’ve been around him for three days now, and he does **not** get any easier to understand.” Vincent contributed.

Fritz looked around the room one more time. “…Jack, you’re going to need one hell of a plan to get all of us out of here alive.”

“Yeah, what do we need to do?” Scott asked.

“…” Jack thought for a moment. “…For now, you all have separate business to attend to. Jeremy?” He waited until Jeremy was looking at him to continue. “Go home and get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

If the ominous statement got to him, Jeremy didn’t show it. “…A-alright, s-see you guys t-tomorrow! B-bye!” He waved as he walked towards the main door.

“Fritz,” Jack continued once Jeremy had left, “inform the company that everything seems to be in order, but that you want a higher-up with you on Friday, just in case.”

“Why would we want _another_ person there?” Fritz questioned.

“…Evidence.” Jack answered after a pause.

Fritz nodded understandingly. “Alright, guess I’ll take my leave. See y’all tomorrow!”

“Wait, what happens on Friday?” Mike asked as Fritz walked out.

“ _Whatever we want to_.” Jack responded cryptically. “Come to think of it, you should probably head to the office and get set up. Time’s-a tickin’.”

Mike laughed. “Guess you’re right. Alright, see you fuckboys later!”

“Bye!” Vincent waved him off as he left.

With only himself, Vincent, and Jack left in the room, Scott decided that it was as good of a time as any to ask his question. “Ummm…Jack?”

Jack turned to face him. “Yeah?”

“Uh…w-when I try to leave this place, I think I kinda…black out? I mean, I only remember leaving at night and coming back in the next morning…Is that a phone guy thing?”

“Yeah… Remember the whole ‘you can’t leave’ thing?” Scott nodded. “Well, in your case, that’s literal. ‘Cause your role doesn’t require you to do anything outside of Fazbender’s, phone guys blank when they try to leave. I heard it’s to prevent them from running away. Hmmm…” Jack looked like he was mulling something over. “…I think, just for safety’s sake, you guys should stay in the saferoom tonight. I’ll be in there too, I gotta edit the footage and…actually come up with a plan instead of just winging it.”

“ ** _Slumber party_**!” Vincent exclaimed gleefully. Scott ‘glared’ at him. “Er…serious business endeavor?”

Jack snorted. “Better.”

For what felt like the hundredth time today, Scott headed back to the saferoom. This time, he wasn’t alone.

…

Jack checked to see if the door was locked securely, seemingly satisfied with the loud clunking sound it made when he tried to open it. “Alright!” He exclaimed, dusting his hands off. “I gotta get set up. I’ll need your help in a minute. For now, though, just entertain yourselves, sans arson _please_.”

“Gotcha, chief!” Vincent saluted, and then walked off, presumably looking for something that he could mess up.

After a moment, it seemed like he’d found something. “Hey, Scott!”

“Yeah?” Scott walked over, admittedly curious as to what Vincent had spotted.

Vincent held up what appeared to be a discarded Spring Bonnie head. “…What do you think this tastes like?”

Scott just stood there, incredulous, for a few seconds. “…Don’t lick it.”

“I’m gonna lick it.” Vincent responded before he had even finished talking.

“ _Why_?”

“I’m the only one of the two of us with a tongue.” Vincent stuck his tongue out to prove the claim. “It _has_ to be me.”

“…Jack?” Scott called.

“Yeah?” Jack responded, deadpan.

“How dead can he get from licking that?” Scott pointed to the head.

“Mmm…” Jack thought for a moment. “Not any deader than he already is, honestly. Go for it.”

“You deadass?” Vincent seemed shocked.

“On god. Lick the robot.”

“…” Vincent hesitated.

“C’mon, now you’ve got me excited. Lick. The. Ro. Bot. Lick! The! Ro! Bot!” Scott joined in on the chant. “Lick the robot! _Licktherobotlicktherobotlickthe_ -”

Vincent held the mechanical head to his own, and stuck out his tongue.

Jack cheered.

Vincent threw down the head in what appeared to be disgust.

“What did it taste like?” Scott asked, awestruck.

Vincent looked him dead in the ‘eyes’. “ **Regret**.”

“Not that uncommon for a Freddy’s restaurant.” Jack commented. “Alright, perfect timing! I need you guys now. C’mere.”

Scott walked over to Jack, unsure of what he needed them for. Jack spun around in his chair again. “Alright. So…Identification codes?”

Scott and Vincent just looked at each other confusedly. Jack sighed. “…Your original location and model number?”

“Oh!” Scott remembered his almost immediately “…72_01.”

“72_02.” Vincent contributed. “But, what do you even need these for?”

“Well,” Jack started, typing aggressively, “There’s usually files kept on each location based on the ID Codes of the employees, which means…” The computer flashed white for a second, and then loaded in what appeared to be a very large spreadsheet. “ _Yes_!” Jack fist-pumped. “ ** _I’m in_**.”

“… _Wow_.” Vincent seemed _extremely_ impressed. “How do you even _know_ all that stuff?”

Jack started punching in the password. “I don’t fuck around…except when I do.” He immediately tabbed over, and started editing his own profile.

Scott peered over his shoulder. “Wait, your middle name is ‘C’? What does that even stand for?”

“Chuck E. Cheese. I had it legally changed.” While speaking, Jack highlighted his description, deleted the whole thing, and typed “raging pansexual” in it instead.

Scott had to fight to keep himself from laughing. “…Are you _sure_ that’s a good idea?

Jack stared up at him. “I am not interested in being polite _or_ heterosexual.”

“Hell yeah! _Fuck_ the system!” Vincent cheered.

“We _are_ the system.” Scott contributed.

A short pause followed. According to the stupid smile on his face, Jack had seen his shot and was about to take it.

“…Dude, no phomo!”

_…Oh my_ ####### ###.

“…How long have you been waiting to use that joke?” Vincent asked.

Jack stared at him. “ ** _Thirty-seven years_**.”

Scott inspected Jack’s screen more closely. Under “Death(s)”, four separate dates were listed, the most recent of which being yesterday. “Wait, why did you need to fake your death so many times?”

Jack looked intensely at the numbers. “Well, you know what they say…You haven’t really lived until you’ve faked your own death at least three ti-”

“ ** _Nut up or shut up_**!” Vincent interjected.

“ **No ONE SAYS THAT**.” Scott shot back.

Jack laughed uncontrollably for a few seconds before composing himself. “Okay, seriously, I need to work. Could you guys go be quiet for a little bit?”

“…Sure.” Vincent leaned against one of the walls, and Scott went over to join him. After a minute spent staring into space, Scott glanced over at Vincent. “ _I wonder_ …” He murmured, mostly to himself.

“Wonder what?” Vincent turned to look at him.

“Well... It’s just…” Scott looked at Vincent again, then laughed to himself. “Purple. Your hair is purple, your skin is purple… H-heck, I wouldn’t even be surprised if your blood is- wait…”

Vincent immediately lunged for the nearest sharp object, and Scott had to restrain him by grabbing him. “ **No**! I’m not going to let you _s-stab yourself_ to **check your blood color**!”

“ _You don’t understand I need it_.” Vincent spewed out without pausing for breath. “I need it. My blood-”

“ **God** , I wish that were me.” Jack interrupted.

That made Scott pause for a second. “…Wait, you don’t have _blood_?” Jack nodded. “W- What’s in your veins, then?”

“ **Hubris**.” Jack responded, not breaking eye contact with his computer screen.

“You’re so fucking valid.” Vincent leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Within seconds, he was out.

Scott just sat there, fidgeting with his hands. After a minute, Scott looked over to realize that Vincent’s head was resting on his shoulder. He tried his hardest not to laugh and shake him awake. _You_ ####### _hooligan_.

Finally, he leaned back against the wall. _Goodnight_ , #####.

It wasn’t long before Jack’s rhythmic clacking of keys lulled him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost on time, right? At least it's sooner than last chapter was!  
> All self-deprecating jokes aside, though, I hope you guys have an awesome holiday season! I hope this helps you de-stress, at least a little bit. Remember to take care of yourselves.  
> Oh, and before I forget; HUGE shout-out to [Lucario](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucario/pseuds/Lucario) for, among other things, inspiration for the "Do you like me" note, being a psuedo-beta reader, amazing writer, and truly awesome friend. (Luc, if you're reading this, I love you <3) If you like this fic, you'd completely have a blast with their work. Go show them some love. They deserve it.  
> Okay, think that's everything I wanted to say. See you guys next month! Have a great day! Drink water! ^u^


	4. Sincerity Nature: Drastic Measures of Ignorance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all probably know the deal by now. School sucks, holidays are always busy, yadda yadda yadda. But! I have a super long chapter for you guys as a belated Christmas/New Years present! I really hope you like it. Enjoy!

“Call the bluff, we’re the liars! You fell for our deceit

It’s better not to love than to hope for something

No one’s a pure one, it’s all impurity!

Just like a toy we played you

FLY HIGH HEY!! Don’t take us for mere fools,

Just listen to the truth that we’re freely singing!

‘Cause it just takes two to tango in the end,

So give into the lie, and say bye bye

(We’re sorry but the both of you are just so vile…!)”

-Sincerity Nature: Drastic Measures of Ignorance by Suzumu, English translation by Kuraiinu & Rachie

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Oh gosh, finally._

Scott’s immediate ability to connect the last place he remembered being with his current place of residence seemed like a cause for celebration. His enthusiasm was quickly dampened by a scan of the room revealing that Vincent had left.

 _Never a dull moment_. Scott rose to his feet and quickly stretched his arms. _Wonder what Jack’s up to_?

As soon as he left the saferoom, Scott noticed a loud rattling noise coming from the main room. Hurrying in that direction, he soon discovered its source; the main door was locked, and it sounded like someone on the other side _desperately_ wanted in. Closer inspection revealed a familiar voice, “ _Oh come on_ ** _please_** _I don’t have that much of a head start I_ ** _need_** _to get inside just_ ** _open_** -”

Scott cautiously stepped forwards to undo the latch, and the door immediately swung open. Jack almost fell in, panting, and rain followed him until he slammed the door closed. Scott took in the large bags in his hands. “Busy night?”

Seemingly out of breath, Jack laughed and nodded, dropping the bags and throwing his soaked jacket to the floor. “Mall security systems have changed a **lot** since last time.”

Scott wasn’t even sure what to ask about first. “You-” He noticed the names on the sides of the bags. “-Did you seriously rob a **_Radioshack_**?”

Jack didn’t even flinch. “They have phones. We need phones. **I don’t see the problem**.”

Jack dug into the bags, inspecting his haul. Scott noticed what looked like two off-brand touch-screens, and… “Bluetooth earbuds?”

Jack nodded excitedly. “Six pairs!” He held up two of the boxes for reference.

Scott laughed. “Not sure if you haven’t noticed yet, but I don’t have _ears_ , f- uh, fool.”

Jack looked up at him curiously. “Are you sure about that?”

“If you’re implying what I think you’re-”

Jack cut him off. “All I’m _implying_ is that I think Vincent’s making a _very interesting_ discovery right about now.”

As if on cue, Vincent burst through the door, shouting something excitedly that it took Scott a few seconds to translate into words. “ **It’s paint**! **IT’S PAINT**!!!”

Noticing Scott’s presence, Vincent rushed over to him, seizing Scott’s hands in his own and speaking breathlessly. “ _Look at this_.” He guided Scott’s hand over his arm, and slowly swabbed Scott’s fingers across his wet skin. Scott blinked hard. The motion had revealed a dark color underneath the- what? Scott lifted his hand to inspect the purple smears on his fingers. “It’s-… _paint_?”

Vincent nodded excitedly. “ _I still have skin_!”

Scott cocked his head, considering this new development. “Then, what about your eyes? There’s no way that’s-” He was stopped short by Vincent poking a finger directly into his left eye. “Contacts.” He reported to a grossed-out Scott.

“Hang on…There’s no way. Unless-”

“Scott?” Jack interrupted. “Stupid request, but I’m curious. Can you try to stick your tongue out?”

Not thinking about it, Scott did as instructed. “… _Jebus_ **_heck_** that tastes awful.” Jack smiled at him. “…Wait- Tastes! It t-…Does that mean…” Not answering Scott’s question, as was a pattern for him, Jack gestured to Scott’s phone-head. “Can I…?”

“What? Oh, yeah, sure. Go nuts.” Scott bent his knees slightly to make it easier for Jack to reach. “Thanks.” Jack felt around for a moment before an audible click was produced. Scott felt… _something_ …around his head loosen. Instinctively, he raised his hands to its sides. It shifted slightly.

 _That settles it_. Scott lifted straight up, and his vision went dark for a second as the mask slid off of his face.

The first thing he noticed was just how _bright_ it was without any obstructions to his vision. Scott squinted out of instinct as he waited for his eyes to adjust. Looking around in disbelief, the second thing he noticed was Vincent’s enraptured gaze tracing the outline of his head. Scott laughed awkwardly. “Uh, does my hair look ok?”

Vincent’s giddy smile grew. “ _Oh my god shut up._ ** _Shut up_**. C’mere.” Dashing over, he suddenly pulled Scott into a tight hug, forcing him to drop his mask. “Um, I-I’m glad to have a face too, Vincent.” Scott remarked, gently petting his hair. Scott could barely make out Vincent’s mumble of “I’m so glad to see your stupid face again.” as he pulled away. Scott smiled at him, pleased to be able to visually display emotion again.

Suddenly remembering that they weren’t alone in the room, Scott turned around to see Jack examining what appeared to be a large spike on the back of the inside of his mask. “Huh,” Jack remarked, poking it with his fingertip. “Thought so.”

Vincent finally noticed what Scott was staring at. “What the heck is that thing?”

Jack put the mask over his head, and pressed the back into his neck. “Well… Scott, you couldn’t feel your face while wearing the mask, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Scott nodded. “Wasn’t even sure I had one, to be honest.”

“That’s all thanks to this thing.” Jack pulled the mask off, and pointed to the spike. “It blocks the sensory nerve pinch-point on the back of your spine, so your brain can’t receive any feedback from all of _this_.” He gestured to his face. “Taste buds, though…” Jack turned the mask over in his hands. “Still, it’s a pretty ingenious design. Whoever came up with this deserves-”

Scott coughed forcefully. “I mean, what a **vile** and **_inhumane_** design. Whoever came up with it should be brutally murdered.” Jack amended.

“How the hell do you know all that stuff?” Vincent asked. Jack laughed. “High school anatomy. I could tell you in my _sleep_ what happens when you put pressure on a nerrr-”Jack’s eyes went wide. “Oh, fuck.”

Before anyone could ask anything, Jack began explaining. “Scott, are you familiar with what it feels like when your leg falls asleep?” Hesitating, Scott nodded slowly. “Riiight, well imagine if your leg was asleep for a week…and also was your face.”

“…” Scott didn’t know how to react. “Oh. That’s not ideal.” A hand flew to his face as feeling started returning to it. “Oof, that’s a…Ow. Ow ow. Ow ##### #### this is…” He gritted his teeth aggressively “ **Not ideal**.”

Vincent patted his shoulder protectively as Scott struggled to return his thoughts to his questions. “Um, w-wait…th-the head…uh, factory…right? No? I-” He winced and pressed his eyes shut. Vincent made a distressed noise in response. “I-I think I can translate…Scott, that’s about the whole ‘mask’ thing, right?” Scott nodded, slightly pleased that _someone_ could still understand him. He reached up to grasp Vincent’s hand on top of his shoulder, and Vincent squeezed back. “So um, if Scott’s head and my…well, _everything_ …aren’t real, then…were we even put through the factory?”

Scott opened his eyes to gauge Jack’s reaction. “Well, clearly not…” He seemed confused. “ _How on earth are you guys alive if you weren’t actually put through the factory_?”

“Yeah, I’m wondering that too…” Vincent thought for a second. “Wait, if we never got put through the factory, how come Scott can’t swear?”

“Actually, I have a hypothesis about that.” Jack seemed elated to be able to answer at least _one_ question in the conversation. “Can either of you feel anything around your necks?”

Vincent raised a hand to his throat, and frowned. Intrigued, Scott pulled his shirt collar down, noticing Vincent do the same. It felt like a solid band of something was blocking his fingers from touching his skin. A cursory glance at Vincent revealed that he was suffering the same problem. “Huh. _Kinky_.” he remarked. Scott glared at him.

Scott tugged at the band uncomfortably as Jack began explaining. “Normally, when the factory’s worried that someone might dig their tracker out, they put the collar on as extra insurance. I’m assuming in your case, Scott, it’s also serving as sort of on-the-fly censorship algorithm. It’s also programmed to alert that factory if it’s removed, so **stop fucking tugging on it before you get us all killed**.” Scott immediately dropped his hands, noticing his heart begin to race. Vincent stared at him in concern as he shifted his neck around uncomfortably. Vincent sighed. “Here, dumbass.” He turned to Jack. “ _Knife_.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jack tossed him a pocket knife. Vincent caught it and immediately sliced a strip off of his jacket. Confused, Scott stood still as Vincent carefully worked the fabric between Scott’s collar and his skin. Unable to feel the uncomfortable sensation anymore, Scott let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. “Better?” Scott nodded eagerly. Seeing the situation resolved, Jack took initiative again. “Right, well, now that that’s-”

He was cut off by the door swinging open and three people rushing inside. “ _I probably should have locked that…_ ” Jack grumbled to himself as Scott immediately recognized the newcomers. “First!” Mike exclaimed triumphantly. “You both owe me-…I don’t know, fuckin _something_. Not important right now.”

Fritz laughed breathlessly. “All bow to the king of ‘ _I bet you can’t touch that telephone pole and then_ -’”

“Glad to have you all back!” Jack interrupted. Mike turned to look at them, immediately noticing Scott. “Wait, you have a face now? Since when was that-”

“In this line of work, it’s better _not_ to question that type of thing.” Fritz patted his shoulder comfortingly. Scott picked a question out of his list of things that he still needed explained. “Why are all of you here now?” “I texted them.” Jack responded quickly.

Fritz seemed confused. “Yeah, how on earth did you get my number? I don’t remember ever giving it to you.” Jack smiled cryptically. “I have my methods.”

“Okay, so what did you need them all for anyway?” Vincent asked. “Simple!” Jack responded, pointing at Mike. “He’s dead.”

“W- Wha-” Mike sputtered. “ _How am I_ ** _dead_**?!”

“ **That’s how Mafia works**.” Scott and Vincent responded simultaneously.

“…” Mike looked significantly weirded out.

Jack turned to Scott. “Mike died on night four like a filthy casual. Very sad, he was so young, we’ll miss him, blah blah blah.” Scott nodded in understanding, and dashed out of the room.

…

“ _Hello?! Hello, Hello?! I mean, uhhhh- Hello, Afton Robotics, front desk._ This is Scottie speaking. How can I help you today?”

“Um, h-hey Scottie, it’s-” Scott remembered the issue from last time, “-72_01 again, we’ve got an issue.”

There was a gentle chuckle from the other end of the line. “Good to hear from you too, hon. What’s the problem?”

“My, uh, my night guard died.”

Scottie went silent for a moment. “…What exactly are you and Jack planning?”

Scott panicked. “P-planning?! That’s, um, th-there’s no, uh… _Scottie please don’t kill me_.”

She laughed. “Relax, sug. The line’s not bugged, and I ain’t no snitch. Oh, and please do call me Rebecca, will you?”

“…” Scott was not expecting that. “ _What_?”

“What did you _think_ I was doing, sending you the one technician who doesn’t see you as just another robot? Yeah, I mean it was a given that Jack’d rope the nightshift into whatever he’s trying to pull, but I can’t believe he needs _two_ people off the records for it to work.” Rebecca sounded intrigued. “This’ll be _quite_ the show.”

Scott was still reeling. “You- You _wanted_ all this to happen?”

“M-hm. I’m rooting for you guys. Ok, that’s…” It sounded like she was typing something up. “Mike Schmidt, right? I’ll send the report in now.”

Scott wasn’t sure what to say. “…Thanks, Rebecca.”

“My pleasure. Remember, I expect to see your death certificate on my desk before the week is out!” She laughed excitedly. “Ooh, this is going to be _good_. Alright, bye now!”

 _Click_.

…

“Okay, so can I please get a serious answer about for what _ungodly reason_ I’m suddenly dead now?”

“Well, I can only pull this off if there are two of us who don’t have to be accounted for, and you were the second easiest to kill. By the way, welcome to the ‘Not Actually Dead’ Club!” Jack raised his hand for a hi-five, which Mike reluctantly accepted.

Vincent still wasn’t quite sure what Jack was aiming for. “Wait, won’t they just bring in another nightguard?”

“Not necessarily,” Fritz responded. “The earliest they’d be able to get one in would be tomorrow, and by then it’d be too late. Besides, Henry likes to play by the rules.”

Jeremy looked concerned. “Um, w-what do you mean by t-‘too la-’”

Scott burst back in. “Alright, Mike is officially dead! What the _heck_ did I just unwittingly accomplish?”

Vincent welcomed him back in with a wave. “Two dead people, I think. No clue what we’re doing with that, though. Anyone else got a sense of endgame?”

Fritz shook his head. “Jack, now would be a wonderful time to tell us what you’re trying to pull. Honestly, I’m stumped.”

Jack appeared to take a moment to consider this, and then did an impressive flourish of his hands in Mike’s direction. “Exactly twenty-four hours from now, all of us will be…”

“…” Vincent raised an eyebrow. “…Bald?”

“Buff?” Fritz volunteered.

“Cis?” Scott questioned.

Jack laughed. “ _No_ , you fucking idiots. **Dead**. The _obvious answer_ was **_dead_**.”

Fritz seemed confused. “And how, exactly, are you planning on pulling that off?”

Jack’s eyes flashed white for a split second. “ _Follow me_.”

Following Jack out of the room, Scott suddenly stopped short, as if something had just struck him. “W-wait, don’t we need to-”

“We’re closed to the public today, and the cameras are off,” Jack answered before Scott had even finished his question. “We don’t ‘ _need_ ’ to do anything.”

“…Okay…”

Seconds later, Jack had directed the group towards a door. “Voila!”

Mike jiggled the handle unsuccessfully. “It’s locked.”

“Yeah, I think there’s a key…somewhere in the office, right?” Scott contributed. “We should-”

“ ** _Not necessary_**!” Jack announced, pulling a large knife out of the back of his shirt.

“…” Mike looked around frantically. “…Should I even _ask_ where he got that?”

Vincent shook his head. “It’s better to just let him do his thing.”

Gesturing for everyone to take a step back, Jack placed the knife’s blade in the gap between the door and the wall, and systematically slid it up and down while aggressively leaning against the door. After a few seconds, a loud, satisfying **_click_**! was heard. Jack quickly replaced the knife with a pleased smile, and swung the door open.

Inside the room were-

“Fredbear and the RAT?” Vincent spoke before he registered his lips moving.

Jack fist-pumped, exclaiming excitedly. “I _love_ these two.”

Disbelief crossed Scott’s face. “ **Please** tell me we’re not-”

Vincent suddenly burst out laughing. “ ** _Oh my God_** I just realized something.”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

Barely holding himself together, Vincent gestured to Scott. “During the tour on the first day, you’re supposed to introduce this as the off-limits ‘Fredbear Room’, right?”

Scott nodded cautiously. “Where are you going with this?”

Vincent snorted with laughter. “ _Chekov’s_ ** _fursuit_**.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “…Okay, with _that_ out of the way, does anyone have fake blood?”

The question stunned Vincent out of his terrible sense of humor. “No-”

“ _How much_?” Scott interrupted eagerly.

Jack turned to look at him.”…And _where_ do you keep that?”

“In my-” Scott’s face fell. “…car. Right. Don’t have that anymore.”

Jack seemed completely unphased. “What so you need to make more?”

“Umm…” Scott thought for a moment. “Corn syrup, corn starch, food coloring. Acquire it legally _please_.”

“ _Buzzkill_.” Jack muttered before abandoning the conversation to approach Jeremy, who seemed startled to be singled out. Vincent couldn’t really tell what they were talking about, as Jack seemed to dial back his normally loud speech for Jeremy’s sake, but he could make out “…which I _totally_ didn’t steal” and “ **Millennials** ” from Jack, and a lot of quiet laughter from Jeremy. After receiving a final confirmation nod, Jack gestured to the whole group. “I’m going to leave to _legally acquire_ some fucking _corn syrup_. **No one do anything** until I get back.”

Vincent shot conformational finger guns, which Jack acknowledged as enough to justify his departure. “…Okay, nix that last part. Just…don’t do anything I wouldn’t do?”

Vincent pushed out a forceful laugh. “There’s _nothing_ you wouldn’t do.”

“…True.” Within seconds, Jack was gone.

“…” Fritz was the first to take initiative after Jack left. “Alright, I think we have some downtime. Jeremy, you should probably get to whatever special mission Jack assigned you.” Jeremy nodded and dashed out of the room. “Since we’re not busy… Scott, Vincent, mind catching me up on your first two days? I’d like to know exactly what type of bullshit we’re working with.”

…

“…and we _still_ don’t know where the bodies came from?”

Scott shook his head. Fritz leaned back against the wall. “Gotta say, I’ve never heard of _that_ happening before. ‘MURDER CHILDREN’ is kind of the most vital programming in this whole operation.”

“ _Well_ _maybe I’m just such a good person that I managed to circumvent it_.” Vincent contributed.

“Unlikely.” Vincent pretended to be shocked. “I mean, at this point the Factory has it down to a _science_. Been like that for years. Why there’s suddenly this huge oversight, _now_ of all times, I can’t wrap my head around.”

Mike finally spoke up. “Why the fuck is the ‘bunch of unexplained dead bodies’ the part that worries you the _least_ about this?”

Fritz scoffed. “Welcome to Fazbenders.”

Jeremy rushed back into the room. “I-I, um, we, uh… here.” He handed Scott something, and passed another to Vincent. Flipping the object over, he determined that it appeared to be some sort of off-brand touchscreen. “Oh, thanks Jere! No clue what this is for, but I think it’ll be very helpful.” Jeremy beamed in response.

Vincent laughed maniacally. Scott stared at him. “Do you ever think of anything besides the _meme possibilities_ of whatever situation you’re in?” Still chuckling, Vincent shook his head aggressively.

The alarm that Scott had grown accustomed to hearing went off for the first time that day. Scott stood up. “I’ll get it. It’s either Jack, or we’re all dead. You’ll find out in a few minutes anyway.”

Seconds later, Scott spotted Jack standing in the entrance. “How’d it go?”

Jack unceremoniously dumped a bag into his hands. “ **I can never go back there**.”

A quick glance revealed that all the supplies were present and intact. “Why, what on earth happened?”

“Apparently, when you’re asked what you’re doing with corn syrup, corn starch, food coloring, plastic bags and a lighter, “I need to make someone bleed” is **not** an acceptable answer. You should go set up in the kitchen, everything else you need should be in there.”

Scott nodded gratefully. “By the way, giving Vincent a phone is a _monumentally_ terrible idea.”

“Why-” Before Jack had even finished speaking, a loud “ _FOUR THREE TWO **FUCK YOU**_ ” blasted from the back room. Jack groaned. “I’ll deal with it.” Scott left him to it, and headed off to the kitchen to get started.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Scott was pulled from his work by someone knocking on the door, which was startling, because the kitchen didn’t have a door. He looked up to see Vincent rapping his knuckles on the doorframe. “Hey! Uh, Jack wanted me out of the room for some reason, so I came to check on you.”

Scott laughed. “I can’t _imagine_ why he wouldn’t want you around.” He removed his hands from the bowl he’d been working with, and shook the residual goop off his fingers. “Blood should be done, just needs to set at this point.”

Vincent walked over to peer into the bowl. “…I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“Honestly not the first time I’ve heard that. Hey, could you turn on the sink for me? I think we’re in enough trouble already without it looking like a murder was committed in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, sure.” Vincent was walking over to complete the aforementioned task when he suddenly stopped in his tracks, face lighting up like he’d just had the best idea of his life. “Wait, no, hang on!”

Scott decided to humor him. “What do you have in mind?”

Vincent simply chuckled excitedly. Against his better judgement, Scott decided to humor him. “…Okay, go nuts.”

Vincent grabbed Scott’s right wrist in his hands, making eye contact as if to ask for the go-ahead. Scott nodded slightly. He was actually kind of curious as to where this was going.

Vincent raised one of Scott’s fingers to his mouth, and ran his tongue along it without breaking eye contact. Returning his tongue to his mouth, Vincent grimaced in disgust and spat the fake blood onto the floor, making choking noises as he did so. Scott rolled his eyes. Using his now-clean finger, he turned on the sink and washed his hands like normal.

The hottest take of the hour was subsequently delivered. “ _God_ that tastes **terrible**.”

Scott laughed. “What did you _think_ it would taste like?”

Vincent only got louder. “Aaaa I was trying to be _sexy_ and it **_completely backfired_** -” He suddenly spun around and seized Scott by the shoulders. “Did it work?! _Even a little bit_?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Scott had to fight to keep a straight face. “I would kiss you right now but I just got my mouth back and I _really_ don’t want the first thing that I taste after a week to be fake blood.”

“Fair.” Vincent hesitated for a second. “…I love you, bitch.”

Scott sighed. “I love you too, ###-” He was startled by a loud ringing noise coming from his neck-band-thing. “Dude, not fair.”

Vincent looked confused. “What?”

Scott hit his forehead with the heel of his palm. “Not sure how you haven’t noticed it yet, but I can’t swear, #####- See!?”

Vincent appeared to contemplate this. “What if you tried it really fast? Like, without thinking about it.”

Another loud ringing noise. “I seriously don’t know why you were expecting that to work.”

“Hm. How about-”

Jack poked his head through the doorway. “I heard ringing. What’s going on?”

“Scott can’t swear.” Vincent responded.

Jack laughed. “Yeah, no shit. We trying to find a workaround?” Vincent nodded. “Ooh, I’ve always wanted to figure out how this works! What have you tried so far?” He didn’t even wait for a response. “What if you spoke in another language?”

“Drittsekk!” Vincent exclaimed excitedly.

Jack turned to look at him. “You speak Norwegian?”

Vincent laughed awkwardly. “Uh, only the swear words.”

Jack shook his head. “Nah, that’d be too obvious. Try…Hündin?”

Vincent never missed an opportunity to make a terrible joke. “I’m sorry, sprechen sie _bitch_?”

Jack began laughing hysterically. “That’s _not how that phrase works at all_ , ‘do you speak bitch’ implies that you are the one speaking-”

“FUCK YOU!”

Scott tried it anyway. “######? Nope.”

Jack seemed impressed. “Damn, they must have prepared this to go worldwide! Hmm…”

Scott could almost see the lightbulb go off in Vincent’s head. “Ooh, idea, idea! Try saying ‘ _twink_ ’.”

“Twink?” Vincent looked at him excitedly. “Wait, it works!”

Vincent was smiling like an idiot. “Thot?”

Scott echoed his instruction.

“ _Titty_!” Jack contributed.

“Is ‘cuck’ too vulgar- well, apparently not.” Scott wondered out loud.

Jack seemed pleased. “Okay, now that that’s out of the way, finish up in here and head to the front room. Shit’s about to go _down_.” He cracked his knuckles and dashed out of the room. Vincent raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that can’t be good.” Scott contributed. “C’mon, let’s go.” He sped off in Jack’s direction, Vincent following close on his heels.

Entering the front room, Scott realized that everyone else was already there. Upon noticing him, Jack began addressing the assembly. “Alright, everyone listen up, because I’m only going to say- actually, no, I’m not saying it at all. Fritz, could you please explain tomorrow’s ‘party’ to everyone here?”

“Um…” Fritz unconsciously adjusted his glasses while he was thinking. “At the end of every week, regardless of who the dayshift worker sides with, the location’s Phone Guy will always host a party. Uh, sometimes it’s a birthday, sometimes it’s a poorly-veiled sting operation…yadda yadda, not important. Point is, the location’s Purple Guy will always show up with some sort of deadly weapon to disrupt it. Tampered robots, local assassins, just a regular fucking gun…greatest show I’ve ever seen was with two frogs and a flamethrower, ha ha…” He coughed awkwardly. “Uh, anyway, Phone Guy hosts the party, Purple Guy shows up to crash it, everyone involved dies somehow, rinse and repeat.”

Jeremy seemed slightly unsettled by this. “No one’s going to die.” Scott reassured him, and then threw a pointed glance at Jack. “ _Right_?”

“Uh, no, not intentionally.” Jack completely deflected the question. “Hey, Mike, have you ever worn a rat suit?”

“ **I’m going to stop you right there chief**.” Scott spoke before he even knew what he wanted to say. “If there’s _one thing_ I know for certain in this whole mess, it’s that those old suits are _completely_ deadly and will _definitely_ kill him if he tries to put one on.”

“Relax, phone-…uh…normal-human-face-man.” Jack instructed. “We’ll remove all of the springlocks beforehand.”

Scott wasn’t convinced. “And how on _earth_ are you planning on pulling that off?

Jack gestured around him. “Well, it’s a good thing that we have professional Fazbear tech and a former mechanic with us, right?” Fritz and Vincent exchanged an awkward glance. Vincent spoke first. “ _Please_ do _not_ put any faith in me it will not end well-”

“ **Seconded**.” Scott agreed.

“ ** _OVERRULED_**.” Jack shot back.

“Anyway…” Vincent closed his eyes like he always did when he was about to start thinking out loud. “Okay, so if this goes right, you have two non-deadly suits and a fake-dead guy in one of them…and the tampered suits usually-” His eyes snapped open wide. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Mike asked.

Scott realized what Vincent had just figured out. “Jack’s going to have you wear one of the suits and pretend to kill us.”

“ **What**?!” Mike exclaimed again, more forcefully this time.

Jack snapped his fingers. “Bingo! Err, not exactly bingo, I’m going to wear the other suit and assist in the pretend murder of everyone in this room, but you get the idea.”

Fritz was the first to have anything to say about that. “…But, to make it look realistic enough to work, we’d need…” Right as Jack was about to speak, he finished his own sentence. “…fake blood and professional acting training. But, with the cameras out…” He answered his own question again. “…the official you asked me to call in.” Fritz shook his head gently. “ _God_ , you’re a fucking genius.”

“Wait, no, how…” Scott took a moment to compose his words. “So, you and Mike are already dead, and it’s easy enough to fake a springlock failure for Jeremy, but what about Fritz, Vincent and I? We won’t be able to plan-”

“We’ll just work it out on the fly,” Jack interjected. “More fun that way, right?”

“And how the _he_ - ** _heck_** are we supposed to-”

Jack cut him off again. “Ever been in a conference call?” He dug into the large bag on the floor next to him, pulled out a small black box and tossed it to Scott. Scott looked it over, trying to find any form of label. “It’s…Bluetooth earbuds?”

“With these, we’ll be able to coordinate on-scene.” Jack tossed a pair to everyone except for Jeremy, who lifted up his floppy hair to reveal that he was already wearing one. Jack disdainfully dropped his box back into the bag.

Scott took a deep breath. “So, let me get this straight- The success of our plan, and by extension, the not-death of everyone in this room, is entirely dependent on a _glorified **Discord call**_?!”

Jack considered this. “Uh, yeah, basically.”

Vincent spoke without hesitation. “I’m in!”

“No you’re not, shut up.” Scott shot back. “We- You-…no, that’s not good enough. Mike?”

“Mhm?” Mike looked up at him, intrigued.

“Swear for me. That’s a…” Scott gestured towards himself.

“…Fucking?” Mike contributed.

Scott nodded. “Terrible idea, that would get us all…”

“Goddamn.”

“Killed, you…”

Mike looked excited. “ _Abominable **shit goblin**_!”

“ **What**?” Scott shook his head aggressively. “Wait, no, never mind, that actually works. I don’t think I can physically impress upon you how much of a bad plan this is. Fazbenders’ been doing this for what, _fifty years_? There’s _no way_ they’re not just going to immediately see through this, especially considering that-” He gestured wildly in Jack’s direction. “-suspect number _motherf-frickin’ **one**_ has been involved since the start! If _you’re_ interested in dying futilely, that’s fine, but I’m _never_ going to-”

Vincent interrupted him. “Von Gacy.”

 _Oh ####_. Scott slowly turned in his direction. “…Seriously?” Vincent made eye contact and nodded.

Scott sighed. “…Alright, I’m in. Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t think we have a _single chance in heck_ of getting out alive, but I’ll cooperate. What do you need me to do?”

Jack didn’t seem confused; or, if he was, he didn’t care. “First, I want to get a confirmation on this. I need everyone in this room to understand that if this goes wrong, there’s a serious chance of debilitating injury or death. If this goes _right_ -” He paused. “You’ll never be able to return to the lives that you’re abandoning. Jeremy, I’m specifically talking to you here. You’re the only one of us that can just _leave_. If you run now, it’ll be too late to track you down. I can call in a few favors to keep them from catching you. You can be free of all of this, if that’s what you want.”

Jeremy shook his head. “I’m not a-abandoning you guys to save myself. I-I’m in.”

Jack looked around the room. “You already heard from me, dude.” Scott contributed.

Vincent placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “We’ll make this work. We’re getting out of here.”

“If this is my chance to get out of here, I’m not going to look a gift-cryptid in the tooth-orifice. I’m in.” Fritz announced.

Mike laughed. “Beats sitting at home alone on a Friday night, right? Yeah, sure, fuck it. I’m in.”

Jack rubbed his hands together excitedly. “ **Time for bear**.”

Scott decided to not to dwell on that. “Jack, you’re in charge here. What’s our next move?”

“Costumes. Fritz, have you ever removed a springlock before?”

Fritz nodded. “We have to do it with old suits before we can dispose of them.”

“Great.” Jack’s voice betrayed no emotion. “Take Vincent and get to work. Please try to minimize any unnecessary finger loss.”

Vincent laughed. “No promises.”

Jack smirked. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Get to it.”

…

Fritz paced nervously across the room. There could be no mistakes in what he was about to undertake. Any potential for anxious movement had to be removed.

Vincent traced Fritz’s path with his eyes. “You don’t have to be so worried. I promise I’m a fast learner.”

Fritz laughed exasperatedly. “That’s not the issue. It’s just- This is crazy. I would never _consider_ doing this-”

“Which means that no one else at Fazbender would either.” Vincent contributed. “It’ll work. It has to.”

Fritz sighed. “Alright, can’t argue with you there. Let’s get to work.”

Vincent slid up next to him. “Where do we start?”

“We-” Fritz realized how terribly this could go. “We need to first trigger all the springlocks in order to remove them.”

“Oh.” Vincent grimaced. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“Yeah, no shit. Can you tell everyone else what we’re about to do so no one freaks out at the noises?”

“Sure!” Vincent dashed out of the room. “HEY, EVERYONE! WE’RE ABOUT TO TRIGGER THE SUITS! PLEASE REMAIN CALM! IT WILL BE LOUD, BUT NO ONE IS IN DANGER!” A pause. “…I HOPE!” He returned. “How was that?”

“Adequate.”

“Gee thanks. How do we do this?”

“Well…” Fritz thought for a moment. “Back at base, we have a machine that triggers it for us, but right now our best idea might just be to…throw the whole thing at the floor and hope for the best?”

“That’s kind of my entire life philosophy. I’m down.”

“Great.” Fritz pointed at Farfour. “You take the Rat. We should trigger them at the same time just to get it over with.

“Okay.” Vincent picked up the Rat by the sides of its torso, and held it at arms’ length. “Ready?”

Fritz hefted the Bear in a similar manner. “Ready. Three…Two…”

“ ** _SCATTER_**!” Vincent exclaimed, and chucked the Rat at the floor. Fritz followed suit.

For a split second, there was silence. Then both suits activated at once.

Fritz, who’d witnessed this more times than he’d care to recount, was unphased by the noise. Vincent jumped backwards and stared in shock at the suits, which were writhing like there was an electrical current flowing through them. Fritz waited for the clamor to stop before yelling out “WE’RE OKAY!” for anyone who could hear. He turned to Vincent, who was still in a flinching position. “You ok, man?”

Vincent shook his head aggressively, like he was trying to clear away an unwanted thought. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting it to be so… ** _violent_**.”

Fritz was confused. “You’ve never seen one before?”

Vincent shook his head again.

“But… didn’t you go through one yourself?”

Vincent sighed. “That’s the weird part. For the life of me, I can’t remember any of that. I was just at my job like normal, and then…” He gestured around himself. “Here.”

“Huh.” This was unprecedented. Usually, someone who’d been through the factory had the trauma of the failure permanently impressed upon them. Maybe Vincent was just coping in a way he hadn’t seen before. “Anyway…we should get to work on removing the springlocks.”

Vincent inspected the suits closer. “And how would we do that?”

“I think…” Fritz removed the mask from the Rat and looked inside of it. “I think we should just unscrew the whole framework from the inside. These things are…” He knocked on the side of the Rat with his fist, and felt no give. “… _stale_ , weird as it sounds. I think they’ll hold long enough to get the job done.”

“Sounds good to me.” Vincent nodded like he was following. “These old ones open up, right? I mean-” He mimed like he was undoing a latch, and then opening a panel on his arm.

Fritz nodded. “Yep, these guys are a lot more accessible. You sound like you know what you’re doing. Ready to get to work?”

Vincent provided half-hearted finger guns in response, and sat down in front of the Rat to work on it. Fritz started on the Bear.

After a while of working with no incidents, Fritz decided to speak. “Vincent?”

“Mmm? Hang on a sec.” The aforementioned carefully set the piece of framework he was holding to the side. “Yeah?”

Fritz hesitated for a moment. “…Can I ask you a question?”

Vincent spun around to face him. “Only if I can ask you one after. What’s up?”

“Well…” Fritz tried to remember the exact phrase. “What does ‘Von Gacy’ mean?”

“Oh, _that_!” Vincent laughed. “It’s just a little thing that Scott and I do. We have a bunch of code-phrases that we use because it’s cool as _shit_. That one just basically means ‘ _Trust me, do it_.’”

“Huh.” Fritz mulled over this. “Neat.”

“My turn, my turn!” Vincent thought for a second. “…Okay, got one! Uh- How did you get yourself involved in this whole thing?”

Fritz was taken aback. “You- Out of everything, _that’s_ what you want to know?”

Vincent nodded eagerly.

Fritz sighed. He supposed there was no harm in telling the truth- or, at least, as close to the truth as he could manage. “…Alright. Strap in.”

He took a deep breath, and started. “I worked tech in location #37. Quiet little place, actually- I think that was before child-murder scandals started being a staple. Anyway, aside from the odd customer complaint, everything was running smoothly, and it was all thanks to our nightguard, Alex. Guy had a kinda sixth sense about when things were about to go wrong. I can’t _tell_ you how many people still have all their limbs because he told them to step back before an animatronic snapped. One of the longest lived nightguards in the business. He had the night shift down to a _science_. Great with kids, too. Nicest guy you’d ever meet, if a bit…curious. Kept sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong.”

Fritz still remembered the beginning of the end. He had to stay late that night, and Alex came in before his shift to keep him company. A few hours and a few drinks deep, Alex had started talking. Fritz just wished that it hadn’t been right in front of the cameras.

 _“Have you ever noticed anything…_ weird _about Scott?”_

_Fritz leaned back in his chair. “What do you mean?”_

_“I just…” Alex turned to fish in his backpack. “Call me crazy, but I’ve been writing this stuff down, and I’m starting to see a pattern. Like…” He pulled out a notebook, and flipped to a bookmarked page. “Uh, a week ago; at the party, remember? When he was talking to the kid’s parents, he introduced himself as ‘Jeff’.”_

_Fritz wasn’t convinced. “Might just be his legal name. Easier to use what’s on paper if you’re only going to see someone once.”_

_“That’s what I though at first, too, but when I asked him about it after, he said that I must have misheard him. He’d never gone by Jeff in his life.”_

_Fritz shook his head. Alex always read way too much into these things. “A weird slip of the tongue, maybe. This hardly calls for…anything you’ve done or inevitably will do.”_

_Alex flipped a few pages backward. “Like a month ago, when we-”_

_“All rational thought has left the station.” Fritz announced._

_Alex glared at him. He looked slightly…panicked? “Just hear me out.”_

_Fritz sat back and folded his hands. “Alright, I’m sorry. Please continue.”_

_Alex returned to his notes. “Three weeks ago, during the dayshift- he looked at the clock, and suddenly announced that he needed to pick up his daughter from soccer practice, or ‘Alice’d kill him.”_

_“He never mentioned an Alice.” Fritz suddenly realized something. “Wait- he’s not married!”_

_“Yeah, never has been.” Alex responded. “When I asked him what the heck he just said, he- he stared at me like I was crazy.”_

_“Not that far off.” Fritz contributed. Alex rolled his eyes._

_“He said that he’d never said anything of the sort, and recommended that I go lie down. He didn’t seem like he was lying, either. He didn’t seem to have any memory of the outburst at all.”_

_“Huh. That’s…concerning.”_

_Alex leaned in, like he was about to tell a secret. “I knew I couldn’t just let it rest there. I had two names, so all I needed-”_

_Fritz slammed his hands on the table. “You_ didn’t _.”_

_Alex returned a mischievous glance. “-was a last name. And I knew just where to find it.”_

_Fritz remembered the weird questions he’d gotten yesterday from the higher-ups about a potential ‘security breach’. “You- You_ broke into his locker _?”_

 _Alex laughed sheepishly. “Sacrifices must be made in the pursuit of science. Anyway, I found something_ very interesting _hidden among the discarded papers in his bag. An expired credit card made out to a ‘Mr. Jeff Hayes’.”_

 _Fritz was hanging on every word. “That’s_ insane _.”_

_“I know, right? Anyway, I did some digging on the internet for a Jeff and Alice Hayes. Turns out, there’s a couple by those names that lived just outside of town. Now, here’s the crazy part. Jeff Hayes died exactly four months ago.”_

_“That’s-”Fritz realized what Alex was getting at. “Scott started working with us four months ago!”_

_“EXACTLY!” Alex’s eyes were wide. “There’s something going on here, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Don’t ask Scott about any of this. I don’t want anyone to get suspicious.”_

_Fritz checked his watch. “Listen, I gotta go. Don’t do anything crazy without me.”_

_Alex laughed. “_ You _don’t have to remind_ me _to stay safe.”_

“I think someone caught wind of what he was doing.”

_The next morning, Fritz took note of a large black van with the words ‘Fazbender Entertainment’ written on the side in the parking lot as he pulled into work. As he entered the door, several men in nondescript suits pushed past him. All of his co-workers were standing in a clump, talking quietly. “Hey, what’s going on?”_

_Scott wouldn’t raise his head. “Alex…he…he’s gone. I’m sorry, I know you two were close. If you need-”_

_“Wha-_ dead _? How?”_

_“It’s just a risk of working the night shift. He knew what he was getting into.”_

_Fritz’s head was spinning._ Not Alex. He couldn’t _\- “Can I see the body?”_

_Scott shook his head sadly. “They already took it. Said that it was a messy failure. They didn’t want to risk the public seeing.”_

_“‘They’?”_

_“Fazbender higher-ups. They left when you came in.”_

_“Right. Right. Ok. I just-” Fritz dashed for the storage room. No one stopped him._

_He sprinted through the hall. He just needed to see- anything. A torn piece of fabric, a bloodstain. Any memento that Alex had been there._

_He skidded to a halt inside the room, breathing heavily. “What-”_

_Both suits were still there._

“He just- disappeared. No explanation, no trace. Just- gone.”

_Fritz ran to the office, looking for some sort of explanation. Everything had been knocked over, and thrown out of place. However Alex went down, at least he had gone down fighting._

_Fritz’s eye was immediately drawn to the phone on the desk. It looked normal, except- The red light was on._

It was recording _._

_Fritz immediately hung up the phone and navigated to the voice memos. “Come on… Come on…” He crossed his fingers, and held the receiver up to his ear._

_“7/12/XX, 11:30 PM.” An automated voice announced._ That was before Alex’s shift had even started.

_“-a- Who are you? What are you doing here? I-”Alex’s voice trailed off into frantic choking sounds, which grew quieter and quieter until they stopped._

_“Finally.” An unfamiliar voice said. “Though we’d never get him.”_

_“Did you hear what he said earlier?” Another one added. “He was getting_ way _too close for comfort. Think we need to take care of the other one too?”_ He means me _, Fritz realized with a jolt._

_There was silence for a moment. “…Nah, I don’t think he’ll follow. He seemed reluctant- his friend’s disappearance should be enough to dissuade him.”_

_“If you say so.” The line went dead._

_Fritz raised a hand to his mouth, realizing that he was hyperventilating._

“I needed to figure out what happened to him. I was desperate…I was sloppy. I got caught. They told me that I knew too much to let go- but I was too valuable to kill. They offered me a deal; work for them, and they’d forgive everything I’d done.” Fritz laughed. “I- as ‘Dave’ would say, I _fucked up a lotta shit_. I still haven’t found out what happened to Alex, but-” He paused. “Oh, sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Vincent responded, startling him slightly. He’d forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the room. “I asked, I’m the one who wanted to know.”

Fritz sighed. “Thanks…for listening, I guess.”

“Anytime.” Vincent sounded sincere. “Uh, by the way- I got all the springlocks out of the Rat. What do you want me to do now?”

Fritz shook his head, trying to bring himself back to the present. “Right. Uuh… If we want it to look like someone died in this, we’ll need blood. Can you go get Scott?”

Vincent’s eyes lit up. “ _I’ll do you one better_.” He pulled his phone out and started typing.

Fritz was sure that there was something going on between Scott and Vincent, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe he’d ask later, once he knew them a little better. In the meantime, Fritz returned to his suit, which he realized that he’d forgot about while he was telling his story.

“Scott says he’ll be here soon, he just needs to get some stuff from the saferoom to make it look more realistic.” Vincent reported. Fritz nodded in response.

Fritz’s phone suddenly started buzzing, like he had just received a multitude of texts at once. He pulled it out, and scanned the most recent notifications from a chat entitled “ **Vincent we’re not calling it that** ”.

Vincent

thanks bae <3

Scott

Np Thot

Jack

You guys are aware that this is a groupchat, right?

Vincent

whassamatter thot? Can’t handle a little H O E M O S E X U A L I T Y ?

Mike

Stop.

Vincent

I T H I N K N O T

Fritz’s head whipped up from his phone at the sound of Scott yelling in the distance. “Whoever wrote ‘ _Kanye West likes Fingers in his A_ -’ on the _whiteboard_ in **permanent marker** I’m going to **_rip out your spleen_**!”

Vincent giggled uncontrollably into the back of his hand. Fritz raised an eyebrow at him. Vincent lowered his hand, smiling. “We have fun.”

Scott burst into the room, holding what appeared to be a sponge and a bowl of something red. He pushed past Vincent and knelt in front of the rat suit, setting his supplies on the floor. “Uh…Need any help?” Vincent volunteered.

“Heck off.” Scott instructed.

As Vincent got up to leave, Scott amended his instruction. “No, wait, heck back over here, I still need you.” Vincent returned, and sat beside Scott. “What’d’ya need?”

“Um, where were the springlocks originally? That’s where the wearer’s blood vessels would’ve been pierced, so that should be the epicenter of the blood splatters.”

“Right! Uh, we should start…” Fritz zoned out of their conversation, focusing primarily on the Bear. Occasionally, he’d look over, and Vincent’d be pointing at something while Scott nodded thoughtfully, and slathered fake blood onto the Rat. It was kind of interesting how such polar opposites ended up working so well together.

“How’s it going?” Startled, Fritz spun around to see Jack in the doorway. “Um-”

Vincent responded for him. “We got a pretty bloody Rat here, chief.”

“All springlocks are out. This thing- _probably_ isn’t deadly.” Scott added.

“Good work!” Jack gave the suit a once-over. “Yeah, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say there’s a body in there. Fritz?”

“Agreed.”

“Alr-” Jack went uncharacteristically silent as he peered into the Bear. “…” After a second, he gestured wildly with his free hand. “Hey bastard, come take a look at this!”

Seeming slightly confused, Vincent sprung up to investigate. Jack waved him off. “No, not you, the other one.”

Scott and Fritz exchanged confused glances. “Oh, for fuck’s-” Jack pressed a palm into his forehead. “ ** _Fritz_**. I need **Fritz** over here.”

As Fritz walked over, Jack pointed into the suit. “Here’s what’s bugging me. The suit looks dirty, right? But other than that, it’s completely unused. The joints are stiff, there’s no stress folds on the-”

Fritz realized what Jack might be reaching towards. “Well, Fazbender has been running out of old tech to recycle recently. It’s probably just-”

Jack’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, they _w_ \- Oh, yeah, ok. Alright.” He looked slightly panicked. “Hey, uh, Scott? Vincent? Can you get- uh- uh, check the saferoom for anything, uh, useful? Please?”

Vincent seemed confused. “But, your suit-”

“I don’t have blood, remember?” Jack herded the pair in the direction of the door.

“But-”

“Out!” Jack pushed them through the door, and slammed it closed.

“…” Fritz considered what had just happened. “…Well, that went well.”

…

As Vincent struggled to form a single coherent though about his recent experiences, Scott articulated an alternate take. “Man, I hope Jack doesn’t kill him.”

Vincent laughed. “I can’t believe that we still haven’t passed the ‘ _maybe he’s a murderer_ ’ stage of our relationship with Jack.”

“What else did you expect? Ooh-” Scott’s eyes twinkled with a genuine glee that Vincent hadn’t seen in a long time. He elbowed Vincent. “C’mon, I’ll race you to the safe room!”

Vincent smirked. “Oh, you are _so_ on.”

Scott set the pace, and Vincent tore after him past a bewildered looking Mike and Jeremy, who appeared to have been talking before the two maniacs raced in. Scott pulled ahead at the last second, almost throwing himself through the safe room door.

Vincent entered the room a second later, stopping to lean against the wall and pant. “Not…Fair…Your legs are longer, you get an advantage…”

Scott laughed triumphantly. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. _Yaoi Hands_.”

Vincent looked down at his hands in disbelief. “…Fair.” He peered around him at the shelves of discarded belongings. “…I’m not even sure what he wants us to look for.”

“Probably just a cheap excuse to get us out of the room. I hope everything’s ok.” Scott went quiet for a second, presumably thinking. “There might be some cool stuff in here, though.”

Caught up in the train of thought, Scott dragged Jack’s swivel chair over to the shelves, and stood on it, presumably to check the top. Scanning the lower shelves, Vincent’s attention was caught by a lumpy piece of cloth near the floor. Lifting it up, Vincent revealed a large collection of knives. He snorted. _Of course we have a fucking_ knife pile _in here_. Quickly checking to make sure that Scott was still occupied by the upper shelves, he snatched a Swiss Army Knife and tucked it into his pocket. _Better safe than sorry_.

Scott’s peal of happy laughter distracted Vincent from his apocalypse preparations. “Ooh, what’cha got?” He rushed over to source of the discovery. “Lemme see, lemme see!”

Scott smiled down at him. “What’s the magic word?”

Vincent had a terrible idea. He licked his lips, and made a conscious effort to drop his voice. “ ** _Daddy_** ~?”

Scott stared at him in an equal mix of shock and disgust. “You have **officially** lost your kneecap privileges.”

“ _You’ll have to catch me first_ ~” Vincent shot back as Scott tossed him one of whatever he had apparently found on the top shelf. “Is this…a plastic lightsaber?”

“Yeah, some kid must’ve left them. Cool, right?” Scott commented absentmindedly as he dismounted the chair. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Vincent flipped his lightsaber into the air unsheathed it in one fluid motion. “ _En garde_!”

Scott chuffed. “…If we’re both going to die tomorrow, I want to get in at least one more lightsaber battle. Alright-” He flicked his sword open, pointing it menacingly at Vincent. “-It’s on, you _Aubergine **motherhecker**_.”

Eager to play along, Vincent picked back up his terrible fake Brooklyn accent. “Oh, Phoney, lemme tell ya, you have _no idea_ the mistake you just made.” He struck forward, and Scott parried smoothly. “That’s **Mr. Cawthon** to you, _soon-to-be-ex-Employee_.”

Vincent side-stepped the block and retaliated from the side. “Oh yeah? You and what army?”

Scott raised an eyebrow.

“…Oh, right. The police.”

Scott pushed against the block, and Vincent spun away with far more force than necessary. Looking behind him briefly, he jumped backwards onto the safe room table. “It’s over, Anakin! **I have the high ground**!”

Scott looked like he was having a seriously hard time holding it together. With only a moment’s hesitation, he vaulted onto the table and swung at Vincent, who laughed triumphantly as he dodged. “You’ve walked right into my trap, Phone-Face! Aubergine Man’s Handy Dandy Three-Step Plan; Step 1, get your opponent on a table. Step 2, distract them through a witty monologue! Step 3-” At this point, as Vincent had been backing up the entire time while he was talking, he fell off the table. “- **SHIT**!”

He sprung back to his feet quickly, but not quickly enough. Scott’s lightsaber was pinned to his neck. “Yield.” Came Scott’s voice from behind him.

Vincent chuckled. “Never!” He stabbed his sword backwards through the gap between his arm and his torso, hearing a gasp as he hit his mark. Spinning around, he spotted Scott on the floor, doing a very convincing death impression.

“H- gl- gl-” He reached his arm aimlessly in the air, letting it drop with a “Blehhh” as he closed his eyes and stuck his tongue out.

“That was great.” An unexpected voice startled Scott out of being dead. Vincent turned to see Fritz standing in the doorway, surveying the scene. “Ready to do it again?”

Vincent extended a hand to Scott to help him up, which he gratefully took with an awkward laugh. “Just wanted to get in some extra practice.”

“Can’t argue with that. Head to the main room when you’re ready, and bring your blood. Uh- I mean- you know what I mean.” With that, Fritz took his leave.

“You should go ahead.” Scott offered. “I need to go get the blood anyway. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

Vincent nodded in agreement, and picked up Scott’s saber, placing it back on the shelf with his. He smiled at the scene for a moment, before speeding off to see what was up in the main room before Jack tried to kill anyone again.

…

Scott entered the main room quietly, the fruit of his labors clutched in his arms. Surveying the scene, he noticed Fritz and Vincent talking about something, Jeremy looking at his phone, and Mike drinking out of a thermos that read ‘Dumb Bitch Juice’. Before Scott could speak, a tap on his shoulder alerted him to Jack’s presence. “Give ‘em a crash course in dying real quick. I need to finish prepping the suits.”

He nodded a confirmation, and turned around to face Jack, who had since disappeared. _####, that guy’s weird._

Scott decided that it was time to announce himself. “Listen up, **twinks**!”

All heads turned in his direction. Scott decided to amend his statement. “…Err, not you Jeremy, you’re an angel and I’m glad you’re here.” Jeremy waved happily in response.

“Have any of you guys ever used blood packets before?” Scott held up one of the pieces of plastic that he’d filled with fake blood and painstakingly closed by melting the edges together. He didn’t wait for a response. “They make it look like you’re aggressively bleeding to death, which is exactly what we need right now. The plastic’s thin, so be careful, but that means that they can be popped easily by anything sharp or heavy, like, y’know, being stabbed or rugby-tackled by a rogue animatronic.” He paused to think for a second. “Jeremy, since you’re going to fake a springlock failure, we can just place the packets in your suit-”

Vincent’s hand flew up. “…Yes, Vincent?”

“Can I put one under my tongue so it looks like I’m bleeding out of my mouth?”

Scott wasn’t even surprised. “Go nuts, man.”

Jack lurched into the room, barely managing to hold both suits. “Who’s ready for a **costume run**?”

Mike looked the suit up and down, and then turned to Vincent. “…Can I trust that you didn’t just make it so that thing’s just gonna kill me the second I put it on?”

Scott laughed. “Mike, myself included, _no one_ in this room is worthy of trust. Put on the darn suit.”

Jack awkwardly maneuvered himself into the Bear while sharing some last-minute advice. “Remember, the goal in this is to have no one **_actually_** die. Um, if you’re _really_ dying, yell ‘Ah, _fuck_! My shins!”

“W- Wha-” Scott sputtered. “I’m sorry, are we genuinely coming up with **_death safe words_**?”

“You know what they say, better safe than **_dead_**.” Jack slid the Bear’s head over his own, his eyes shining brightly through the vacant holes. “Okay, any questions before we start this shit?”

Jeremy raised his hand shakily. “Um, w-why isn’t there any b-blood on your suit?”

Jack sighed. “Because I don’t have any. **Next**?”

Mike’s voice was muffled inside the Rat. “How the fuck do you get oxygen to your brain without any blood flow? It’s-”

Jack threw his hands up in exasperation. “Does anyone **else** have a question that isn’t about my fucking _circulatory system_? No? Great, let’s get to work.”

Scott examined the phone-mask that had been deposited on a nearby table. “Hey Jack, did you remove the spike?”

“Whaddya take me for, a kleptomaniac?” A pause. “…Yeah, alright, fine, it looked cool, I took it, what about it?”

“Just curious.” Scott reaffixed the mask as best he could, and Vincent came up behind him to clasp it together as Jack set that scene. “Alright, so tomorrow is going to start as a normal party. Jeremy, make normal party noises.”

Jeremy provided some half-hearted cheering. “…Y’know what, good enough. Now, Scott shows up to say…something.” Jack gestured to him.

Scott walked towards the center of the room, and raised his arms as if he was giving a speech. “ _Gosh_ , I sure do love being alive and **not dead ever**!”

“Vincent, that’s your cue.” Jack contributed.

Vincent sprinted over to where Scott stood on the ‘stage’ and attempted to grab the pretend microphone from Scott’s hand. Scott wrestled for it as Jack continued to narrate. “Then, _Dick Jackoff over here_ is supposed to-”

Vincent shoved his face into the ‘microphone’ “ **RELEASE THE ROBOTS**!”

Jack turned to Mike. “Now, when you walk, you want to keep your legs stiff…” He demonstrated as he spoke. “…Lean forward…Stagger a bit…Yeah, yeah, that’s it!” He finished sauntering over to Vincent, doing an incredibly convincing imitation of a haunted suit. “Now, have you ever heard a recording of someone talking in reverse?” Mike nodded. “Great. Try to talk like that, but higher pitched.” Mike made a valiant effort at Jack’s vague directions. “Almost. It’s more in the top of the throat, like,” Jack produced an impressive Farfour sound. Mike’s amazement was visible through the mask’s cartoonish eyes. “…Why aren’t _you_ the one doing that, then?”

“Because I’m better at Breadbear.” Jack responded quickly. “Just work on that so you’re ready tomorrow.” He spun in place, thinking. “ _Drive out the mongrel dogs of the empire_ …Mike, you should probably go for Fritz first.”

“I’ll be standing near the exit door with my partner.” Fritz contributed.

“No, no, that wouldn’t work- you can’t move that fast in those old suits, and your partner would realize that you-” Raising his paw-hands to his face, Jack growled in confusion. “Rrgh, this is _way_ too complicated. Jere, got any spare paper in that huge backpack of yours?”

Jeremy looked over his shoulder at the bag that he’d tucked against the wall. “Uh, y-yeah! Gimme a sec.” He ran to it while Jack removed the upper part of his suit for mobility, returning with a small notebook and pen, which Jack gratefully accepted. “Okay, let’s see here…”

Jack’s sketch was basic, detailing several rectangles as ‘Stage’, ‘Floor’, and ‘Office’. “…We can do this…” He drew a stick figure near the ‘Door’, and labeled it with an ‘F’. “If you can convince your partner that you need to get closer…” An arrow directed ‘F’ towards ‘stage’. “Mike can easily cover that distance. Fritz, can you come stand over here?”

“Sure, just let me…” Fritz turned to the empty space next to him. “I gotta go, man! There’s… I, uh…” He laughed. “I’ve always been balls at improv.”

Scott cupped his hands around his ‘mouth’, not remembering that his mask would negate the effort. “ _That animatronic looks wrong_!”

Fritz snapped his fingers. “Right! That suit’s not normal, I wanna get a closer view in case something weird happens.” He walked over to where Jack was gesturing. Scott flashed him a thumbs up.

“Right, so, Mike’s just kind of going to…” Jack smashed his hands together. “…slam into you, and we’re going to hope that it looks deadly enough. How do you scream?”

Fritz raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“If you’re going to die, you need a good death scream. Lay it on me.”

“Alright, uuh…” Fritz cleared his throat, and let out a half-hearted yell.

Jack clenched a fist. “ **Now yell like all your bones are breaking**.”

“Uh…” Fritz raised his pitch.

“ **LOUDER**!”

Fritz genuinely sounded like he was being murdered. “Good enough. Jeremy!”

Jeremy’s voice broke as his scream went higher than Scott thought physically possible. Jack nodded, pleased. “Vincent!”

“ **OH, _FUCK_**!” Vincent contributed.

“Scott!”

Scott’s high-pitched wail joined the chorus. Jack screamed in response.

Mike coughed awkwardly. “If we keep doing this, someone’s going to call the cops.”

Jack laughed. “Puh- _lease_. This is **Freddy’s** we’re talking about. You’d be lucky if someone called the cops for a _frag grenade_. Uhh, not speaking from personal experience. Anyway!” He clicked his pen. “Once Fritz is out of the way, I’d most likely go for Jeremy- …wait.” He tapped his pen against the paper in thought. Scott peered over Jack’s shoulder. It appeared that he had drawn two figures labeled ‘J’; one on the ‘Stage’, presumably Jeremy, and another on the ‘Floor’. After a moment more of contemplation, he labeled Jeremy ‘J2’.

“Hey, u-um-” Jeremy interjected. “I-I want to be ‘J’!”

Not breaking ‘eye contact’ with him, Jack scribbled out the label and replaced it with ‘lil bitch’.

Scott tapped the paper. “Oh, don’t be petty, he’s got a point.”

Jack considered this. “…Fine, you can be ‘J’. I call ‘Orange’, though.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Fritz spoke up. “I’m completely integral to this plan, and I want to be ‘Orange’. It’s my color motif.”

“ ** _My motif too_** …” Jack grumbled.

Vincent smiled. “I just want to be ‘Gamzee’.”

“ **No one’s going to call you _‘Gamzee’_**!” Scott shot back.

“Uh, F-‘F’ is cool though!” Jeremy provided a valiant attempt to diffuse the situation. “L-like ‘F to pay respects’, y’know…” His face lit up. “A-and Jack can be A-‘Annoying Orange’!”

“Y’know what? **Fine**!” Jack flipped the paper over and started writing aggressively. “We- we’ve got ‘Gamzee’, ‘F in chat’, ‘ _Annoying Orange_ ’, and **you-** ” He turned to point at Scott. “You can be ‘ _Mr_ - **fucking** \- **_Crabs_** ’.”

Scott considered this. “I mean, take out the ‘####’ part and I’m good.”

“You-”

“Ooh, call me ‘Four’!” Mike looked genuinely excited. “Number codenames are badass.”

“Noted. Jeremy-”

“T-‘Tall Haru’!” Jeremy piped up without hesitation.

Jack looked like he was trying hard not to ask anything. “…‘ _Tall Haru_ ’…?”

Jeremy nodded happily.

Jack amended the sketch. “Alright, thank Fredbear that’s over with. _Can we please get back to the murder part now_?”

Scott went back over the plan in his head. “You were saying something about going after Jeremy next?”

“Right, right!” Jack relabeled the figure ‘TH’. “So, I’d go for Jeremy first- Scott, how would you have him fake a failure?”

“Fake trigger-noise, slight jolting, I’m not sure how to have him fall without actually…” Scott snapped his fingers. “Trigger him by pushing him towards me. I’ll catch him.”

Jeremy seemed confused. “H-how…?”

“Here, I’ll demonstrate.” Vincent walked back into the main scene. “Jack, push me.”

Jack laughed slightly. “ _Don’t have to ask **me** twice_.” He lurched over to Vincent, striking him with his shoulder.

Vincent aggressively popped his knuckles, producing a convincing ‘ **crack** ’. He went fully stiff, before appearing to spasm aggressively in place, ending by pushing himself in order to fall in Scott’s direction, who grabbed him about halfway between his trip and the floor.

“Hmmm…” Jack clicked his pen. “Catch him from the back, not the side. It looks too much like you’re dancing right now.”

Giggling quietly, Vincent reached an arm up towards Scott, pulling their faces together.

“I **will** drop you.” Scott warned.

Frowning comically, Vincent turned away from him. “You get that, Jere? I mean, minus the dancing thing, obviously.”

Jeremy provided a very convincing imitation of Vincent’s spasms. “Yeah, I t-think so! N-not sure how to m-make the noise, though…”

“We’ll use a recording.” Jack offered, appearing to have already mentally moved on from the issue. “Then…Scott, can I try something weird?”

Scott laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Go for it.”

Jack made several huffing robotic noises, placed his hands on either side of Scott’s mask, and turned it sharply to the right. Scott felt the mask move sideways around his head. “…Wait, that’s really smart! It’ll look like you broke my- Uuh, I mean, _bleegh_ -” Once it crossed Scott’s mind that he should be dead at this point, he dropped to the floor like a stone.

Vincent tapped him with his shoe. “Nice corpse impression, bro.”

Scott changed his limp fist into a thumbs-up.

Jack started scribbling into the notebook. “Alright, Fritz’s down, Jere, Scott…” He looked up at Vincent. “ **It’s murder time**.”

Vincent attempted to crack his knuckles for dramatic effect, face only falling for a second after realizing that he couldn’t do it twice in a minute. “Born ready, babey.”

“Great. I think…” Jack raised a hand to his chin. “At this point, ‘Dave’ would run. Suits would notice, charge after him, kill him in some vague way in the hallway…” He gestured dismissively. “You just gotta remember to run, and Mike and I can take care of the rest.”

Fritz decided to take the narrative from there. “If the employees are dead and the animatronics are loose, my training is to lock up the building and wait for whatever’s haunting them to run out of energy. Hopefully, by the time my partner decides to check, we’ll be long gone.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jack stretched his way back into his suit’s arms and slid the Bear’s head on. “Alright, let’s take this from the top!”

…

“ _Time_!” Vincent called from the hallway.

“Uuuh…” Scott glanced down at his watch. “…Half an hour, give or take a few.”

“Perfect.” Jack pulled his mask off, panting in the ‘fresh’ air. “Fritz, what’s the verdict?”

“If this run had been for real, y’all’d’ve been legally dead by now.” Fritz announced.

Scott unclasped his phone-head so that Fritz could see his expression of disbelief. “…Did- did you just say ‘ _y’all’d’ve_ ’?”

Fritz clasped his hands together. “ _It’s a real word I swear_.”

Jack yawned loudly. “Mmm, It’s getting pretty late.” He blinked hard, as if sorting through his thoughts. “…Jeremy, enjoy your last night being legally alive.”

Jeremy checked the clock on the wall. “O-oh, it is late! I’ll…I’ll see you guys t-tomorrow morning!”

Jack waved him off. “Fritz, make sure you and your partner are here on time. Don’t do **anything** to alert them that this won’t be a normal party.”

Fritz nodded, pulling his hat down over his eyes. “I should get going. Good luck.”

“Mike-”

“On it!” Mike saluted sarcastically, flashing finger guns as he walked backwards towards the Security Office. “See you fucks in six hours!”

Scott turned to Vincent. “…How much do you think it took out of him to play ‘Only Sane Employee’ to Jack’s s- stuff today?”

Vincent nodded his head lightly. “I’d be surprised if we get a single word from him tomorrow that isn’t some variation of ‘fuck’.”

“Alright, well, I’m going to get some final prep done.” Jack interrupted. “You guys are welcome to stay in the saferoom again if you’d like.”

Vincent yawned. “I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good luck with…whatever, Jack.” Scott offered, unphased by the strange twinkle in the orange man’s eyes as he spoke. _I’m not going to waste what could be the last night of my life wondering about the weird things that Jack does_.

Walking slightly ahead of him, Vincent turned around to offer his hand. “Scott, you coming?”

Scott nodded, taking it. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? Whether it's positive, negative, or just "STOP CAPITALIZING EVERYTHING", I'd love to hear from you!  
> In other news, we are wrapping up arc 1! In the infamous works of Jack, "Shit's about to get _real_."  
> Next chapter might take a little longer than planned, but it's not going to be much later than I've reliably been with new chapters. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed ^u^  
> This is my first time posting a work, so if there's anything that I _massively_ fucked up on, please tell me!  
> If you have any comments/criticism/critique/whatever, I'd love to hear them!  
> I'm planning on updating every month.  
> Okay, until next time, I hope you have a wonderful day! Drink water!


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